Brothers in Arms
by Vespera1
Summary: A brother missing for ten years, a poltergeist at a birthday party. Epilogue... Story is FINISHED!
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any of their friends, enemies, relatives or pets. They belong to Mirage Studios (I think). This story is for entertainment purposes only and is not to be taken internally. I make no money from this, I write these things for my own amusement. There. Now you can't sue my broke butt.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  
  
Turtles? Absolutely. Ninja? Indisputably. Mutant? Always. Teenage? Not any more.  
  
My name is Leonardo. I have no last name, my father never gave one to me, and I could not take his, for he did not have one either. His name was Splinter, and he was a rat. Now don't get me wrong, that in no way is meant as a slur or a derogatory term. He was a rat. He stood four and a bit feet tall, he had fur, a bald little tail, a nose that twitched and a taste for cheese that my brothers and I used to tease him about. He also could, and on a regular basis did, kick all of our tails either individually or in a group, depending how many pegs we needed to be taken down.  
  
Now here's the second shock of this little story. When I say he kicked our tails, I meant it literally. Now our tails weren't as long as his, but that stands to reason, because the four of us, my brothers and I, were turtles, not rats. We stand around five feet tall, give or take a few inches, are green, and have shells. We're just as intelligent as homo sapiens, although in the case of my brother Donatello, I'd say he's got most humans I know beat hands down. I mean, how many humans do you know hold a double Mastery, one in genetics and the other in bioengineering? Last time we spoke, he was working on a thesis for his doctorate. But I digress.  
  
Where was I? Oh yes. Our father trained us in the art of ninja, my brothers and I. I won't bore you with the details now, that is another story, and for another time. We fought many enemies, most we beat, some, we didn't. Through the violence and the pain we grew up. Michaelangelo never seemed to lose that air he carried of the prankster, the kid. He was the youngest of us, and delighted in reminding us of that fact, whether it was carrying a fire extinguisher to my birthday for the candles, or leaving whoopee cushions on all the chairs in the lair. For all of his goofiness, Michaelangelo was hell on wheels with a skateboard, and his nunchucks could send you into oblivion before you could say his name.  
  
My third brother was Raphael. He was different. While Mike would laugh his way through life, and even Don, with his need to rationalize the universe could put his feet up and relax once in a while, Raphael would brood. He saw the darker things that hid in the shadows, he felt more at home with them than he did with his brothers. His emotions burned hotter, and were harder to control. He felt everything so strongly, anger, hate, loyalty, despair. It was sad that the dark emotions were the ones that reared their heads so often. I wonder if he knew how alike we are?  
  
We both saw life in the shadows, and knew that it could touch us even if we didn't want it to. That was where the biggest difference was. He didn't know whether to fight it or court it, and all I wanted to do was protect my brothers from it. That was my job wasn't it? Oldest brother, their protector, the fearless leader?  
  
God. Fearless Leader. What a joke. Michaelangelo called me that first I think, it was a joke, but apparently they thought it suited me as they all started it shortly after. Fearless? I wish. Most of the time I was terrified. Splinter was counting on me, to protect them, to keep them safe. Night after night we battled Shredder and the Foot Clan, aliens, punks, creatures from legend and ourselves. How could I keep them safe? Yet, somehow I managed. Somehow I kept them together, a team, a family. Or at least I did until that night ten years ago.  
  
That's when we lost Michaelangelo. It wasn't like we'd had a fight, or anything like that. It had been a quiet week all around, the most exciting thing that had happened was Raphael spoiling a purse snatching a few days earlier. Michaelangelo was feeling restless, and he headed out of the lair to find some grub. Knowing him, he'd have gone hunting for pizza. The problem is, he never came back.  
  
We didn't worry at first, I mean, he'd gone out for pizza thousands of times. The waitress and the cook at the Pizza Heaven both knew him by name, and had even figured out the species thing a few years before. They were cool with it though, I mean, he must have kept that place running through a few recessions all on his own, you know? But one hour stretched into two, then two into three, three into four. Splinter sent us out to find out what had happened, but there was nothing.  
  
The lady at the restaurant said he'd picked up the pizza on time, paid for it and took off just like normal. Saying he wanted to get back to his brothers before the pie was cold. We scoured the sewers, the rooftops and the streets that night, but there was no sign. The next night we were at it again. This time April and Casey were helping, checking into some of the human connections we couldn't deal with. Day and night we searched, looking for any clue we could find, but it was like he had disappeared off the face of the earth.  
  
We checked all of our old enemies, trying to find someone who took him out of revenge, but they came up clean. The Shredder, the Foot Clan, anybody we could think of. I think we finally managed to destroy the last of the Clan, but it didn't do us any good, for they didn't have him.  
  
The stress was getting to us too. Raphael was becoming harder and harder to handle. He and Michaelangelo had always been the closest, and it seemed that without Mike's constant banter and cheer Raphael kept slipping farther and farther into the anger that burned inside him. He became more violent, unpredictable. All of us continued the search, but Raphael was always the first to leave the lair and the last to come home. He refused to even contemplate what Donatello and I feared, that Michaelangelo wasn't only missing, he was dead.  
  
For two years this stretched on, we searched for our brother, hopes dwindling as time continued. Then a second event shook our family to the core. It was winter in New York, and while the sewers never freeze, they do get cold and clammy. Splinter developed a cough, and it quickly developed into a raging fever and settled into pneumonia. Donatello nearly drove himself insane trying to come up with a cure, but nothing seemed to help. Our Master was dying, and all we could do was watch. It was surprisingly swift when it came, and I suppose if there is ever a good way for these things to happen, this was it. Splinter said good bye to each of us, lifting a shaking hand to wipe away our tears and silence our protests. Its my time, he said. I can say with honesty that this is the best it could have been, for I am surrounded by my family, my sons. With his dignity wrapped around him like a mantle, he died.  
  
We took his body out to the farm, and there we cremated him, and interred his ashes beneath a huge oak tree. That was when our family truly schismed. Raphael didn't return to New York with us. Instead, he wished us good hunting, and turned his path south. April gets phone calls about once a month from him, and once he figured out that Don and I had mailing addresses now he started sending us postcards. Postcards, can you believe it?  
  
Brazil, Argentina, California, South Dakota, British Columbia, Alaska, he's been all over the two continents, and his last postcard mentioned a desire to visit Africa. I have a sneaking suspicion that the next postcard I get will be from Zimbabwe or Egypt. But again, I find I digress.  
  
Donatello and I returned to New York with April, but found the lair was too painful a memory to return to. I took up residence in a small apartment in April's building, and Donatello ended up following in Raphael's footsteps and leaving the Big Apple. He didn't go as far however. He ended up in Boston, and started taking courses at Harvard through correspondence. I don't know all the details here, but Don said that lasted about six months, then one of the professors figured out his secret. To Don's surprise, the prof wasn't upset that his star pupil turned out to be non human, just angry that Don thought something as minor as species should get in the way of his education. I believe he was quoted as "I don't care if you're a turtle or a purple kangaroo with orange spots and a hankering for goat cheese, with a mind like yours its criminal to let it go to waste. You have three days to hand in that term paper, and that's final!"  
  
And so it was. Don's firmly ensconced at the University now, working on his Doctorate and as a research assistant for that same professor. Its funny how things can change.  
  
As I write this, I'm surprised at how little paper it takes to cover the events of the last ten years. I'll be the first to admit I'm glossing over a lot of details here, but I picked up this pen and journal in an attempt to vent some of my feelings, my guilt, and get them where I can see them, fight them, where I can define them.  
  
It occurs to me as I read this, I haven't told you what I'm doing now. I've talked about my brothers, and my father, but very little about me. Donatello isn't the only one of us who is living among humans now. Four years ago I started to teach. One of the humans we had rescued, I don't even remember the situation now, but apparently I pulled him from underneath a falling beam in a warehouse. He'd been a child, and was playing where he shouldn't when he got caught in a fight between us and Shredder. In the interim, the child had grown, but he never forgot us.  
  
Mark managed to track me down, following rumors and gossip through the streets until he'd 'cornered' me. He didn't know my name, but he remembered the blue, and the katanas. He had only one request, and that was to learn. At first I said no, and the second time he asked, and the fifth (did I mention he was stubborn?) As I recall, I gave in around the fourteenth time. I figured what the hell? He'll go away as soon as he figures out its hard work.  
  
But he didn't go away, and he was good. I mean really good, a natural. And for the first time in years, I was happy. Teaching filled a void I didn't know was there. So I taught Mark, and eventually a few others. We rent a warehouse space now, and I have a little apartment in the back. The floor is a training area. Mark teaches most of the classes, the ones for the regular students, but I still teach the advanced class. If the students weren't ready to be taught by a five foot tall talking turtle, then they aren't taking the Art seriously enough.  
  
I can hear one of the classes happening below as I write this down. The rustle of bare feet on woven mats, the chi focusing yell as the students work through their katas. The place is named Turtle Dojo, and its here I make my home. 


	2. Chapter 2

The phone rang loudly into the silence of Leonardo's apartment, and he jumped a little as it jolted him out of his memories. He reached over and picked up the receiver, closing the journal he had been writing in with his left hand.  
  
"Leonardo speaking."  
  
"Hey Shellback, long time no see!"  
  
"April, It's been ages girl, to what do I owe the pleasure?" in spite of himself a smile spread across his features and he leaned back in his chair.  
  
"You never call, you never write, I've got a little girl here who's starting to think her Uncle Leo doesn't love her anymore." Her voice was teasing.  
  
"Tammy knows better than that April, besides, every time I call you use that despicable nickname Casey came up with. How old is the squirt now, five?"  
  
"She'll be five next week, and come on Shellback isn't that bad. I've heard some of the other names people have called you, in fact, Shellback is down right tame. That's beside the point though. We're taking Tammy out to the farm for her birthday, and she wants to know if you're going to come."  
  
"I don't know April, this is kind of short notice, and it's hard for me to get away from the dojo without some warning."  
  
"Huh. Well, she'd be awfully disappointed if you couldn't make it Leo. I don't know if I'd have the heart to tell her that. Maybe you should tell her yourself."  
  
"Wait! April don't you dare-"  
  
"Unca Leo?"  
  
Damnit. "Hiya squirt."  
  
"H'lo Unca Leo. I'm having a party! It's gonna be out at the farm so you can come outside and play, not like when you come over to the house and we can't play outside even if we stay in the yard. Mommy said that she's going to make me a big chocolate cake and Daddy said that I can't peek at my presents even though I want to and." Tammy rambled on as only a young child could, talking about things as they came to mind and seemingly never running out of breath. ".at first I wanted a pet bird but then I changed my mind and oh, Mommy is saying that I haven't" here she paused for a moment "properly invited you to my party yet. So Unca Leo, can you come to my birthday next Saturday?"  
  
Leonardo frantically wracked his brain, searching for a reason that a child would accept for why her uncle couldn't come to her birthday. "Well, you see Tammy," he began  
  
"Pleeeaaaase Unca Leo?" Tammy said into the phone and Leonardo could just picture her. Brown hair, green eyes welling with tears, scabbed knees and all, lower lip trembling as she held the phone to her ear.  
  
Giving it up as a lost cause, Leonardo sighed. "Of course I'll come to your birthday Tammy. Hand the phone back to your mother squirt, I need to talk to her again."  
  
"Yeah! OK! Here's Mommy again!" Tammy called for April and Leonardo pulled the handset away from his ear with a wince. She hadn't quite figured out that she should put the receiver down before she yelled.  
  
"Changed your mind did you?" April smirked.  
  
"That was a dirty trick April." Leonardo rubbed between his eyes with one thick finger.  
  
"It worked didn't it? Besides, you would have kicked yourself if you had missed it. I talked Don into putting aside his thesis work for a weekend and coming out as well."  
  
"Why didn't you say that earlier? It must be at least six months since the last time we saw each other. It'll definitely be good to catch up with what he's been up to." Leonardo hesitated for a moment, then asked "What about?" he couldn't finish the sentence.  
  
"He'll be there too. It took some fast talking, but I convinced him that he's been away from home too long and its time for a visit." She chuckled. "You should have heard him complain about having to leave the heat of Arizona to visit a farmhouse in Pennsylvania." Pause "How long has it been since you've seen Raphael?"  
  
"Well, I still get the occasional postcard from him, but the last one was from Montreal. I didn't realize he was back Stateside." "Leonardo." April cut him off. "Not the last time you exchanged letters, the last time you two actually saw each other?"  
  
Sigh. "I haven't seen him since you and Casey got married."  
  
"Six years? You two really have to work on the sibling relationship thing."  
  
"April." he said warningly.  
  
" I know I know, don't preach right? OK, forget I said anything. Do you have transportation to the farm or are you going to need a lift?"  
  
"Nah I'm good. Mark helped me get my hands on a truck a few months back" Leonardo winced again, remembering what it was like to learn how to drive a stick shift. "I'm good to go."  
  
"Sounds great! It'll be fun with you, three, out there."  
  
Leonardo caught the hesitation before she said three and his heart tightened. They were never meant to be three, it was always supposed to be four. Michaelangelo. The name echoed in his head.  
  
"Hey April?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks for the invite. It's appreciated."  
  
"Anytime Shellback." 


	3. Chapter 3

The sun beat lazily down on fields around him, turning the grass green, and grains to weathered gold. Leonardo had pushed the hood of his shirt down many miles back, enjoying the feeling of the sunlight coming through the windows and caressing his scalp. The truck rumbled down the highways, and Leonardo marveled at the fact he hadn't learned to drive earlier. Oh well, live and learn. He turned the wheel easily and slid onto the gravel road that led through the trees to the farm. It was nearly two miles to the old house, but Leonardo didn't increase his speed any. For some reason there never was a reason to hurry out here. It was not as if time slowed down, or anything like that, just that things should move at their own pace, a pace not dictated by a clock.  
  
He rounded the last corner and the house finally came into view. It was in better shape than the first time he had seen it, years and years ago when they had fled out there to recover, but it still wouldn't win any awards for House Beautiful magazine. He pulled the truck around beside the barn and killed the ignition. Well, time to face the music, he thought to himself. He shouldn't be this anxious, it was his brothers for crying out loud. It wasn't like he was facing enemies, was he?  
  
He opened the door and stepped out. Reaching behind his seat, he pulled out a duffle bag and slung it over one shoulder. Showtime.  
  
He stepped around the corner of the barn and started towards the front steps. He made no more than four paces when the front door slammed open, and a bright tiny whirlwind of energy came flying out at him. He had the briefest impression of Tammy's brown hair and green eyes before the little girl threw herself into his arms. "Unca Leo! You're here, you're here, you're here!" She crowed.  
  
"Of course I'm here squirt, where else would I be?" He gave her a huge hug, and then he tossed her into the air while she shrieked with delight. Catching her neatly on the way back down he grunted. "Oof. You're getting too heavy for that squirt."  
  
"I'd say it's more of a case of your getting soft." Drawled a voice from the porch.  
  
If anything, Leonardo's grin got wider. "Soft? Hardly, you reprobate. I can still kick your.bum." He edited hastily with a glance at April's daughter.  
  
Raphael chuckled and stepped off the porch. "Last time we played that game, I seem to recall wiping the floor with you, Fearless."  
  
"Hah! Not only is you're technique bad, you're mind is going. I was the one that used you as a mop!" Leonardo looked his brother up and down. He'd changed in the intervening years. Raphael seemed both harder and, somehow, more relaxed. He's finally accepted himself. He knows what and who he is, and doesn't need to prove it to others anymore, Leonardo realized. For a brief flash he envied his brother.  
  
As Leonardo came to this realization, they had closed the gap and caught each other in a fierce embrace. Long lost brothers trying to squeeze the life out of one another. Sniping and arguing aside, they were family. And while the sun would fall from the sky and the moon would rise in the west before either admitted it, they had missed each other.  
  
"Here's a change Leo, for once, you're the last to arrive."  
  
Leonardo let go of Raphael and covered the emotions he was felt by punching him in the shoulder as he looked over to sharp-witted Donatello. "Just keeping you on your toes. How are you doing stranger?"  
  
"Its all good. April and Casey are inside. He's up to his armpits in the water heater, trying to get it running again, and she's chopping carrots for supper." Donatello hopped down the last few stairs and joined his brothers, ruffling Tammy's hair with one hand on the way. She pouted up at him, but like most six year olds had an attention span only slightly longer than a lightening strike, and she wandered into the house, looking for some toys.  
  
Raphael stretched, and moved back onto the porch. The swing chair was still there, as well as a couple of lawn chairs. Flopping down on one of the lawn chairs he yawned. "Sorry," he apologized. "Drove all night to get here, haven't had much sleep."  
  
"That brings up a point." Leonardo took the porch swing and glanced nonchalantly at Raphael. "What on earth were you doing in Arizona? Last I heard you were trekking across Canada, considering hopping a ship to Africa."  
  
"Werewolves." Raphael grinned at the puzzled expressions the other two wore. "I was making friendly with a pack of werewolves in Arizona. I ran into a cousin of theirs up in Canada, did him a good turn. He got me a safe conduct to visit the pack. Good buncha guys, really wild parties."  
  
"Werewolves? Am I going to have to drag all of the details out of you brother?" Leonardo grated, still confused.  
  
Raphael grinned. "As long as I'm having this much fun, Fearless? Hell yes!"  
  
"I don't know about him, but if you don't tell me what you're talking about, brother or not, I'm going to do something rash." Donatello joked.  
  
Raphael laughed. "Ok, ok, I give up. Ganged up on by my own brothers, what a horrible fate." He grinned charmingly, "A couple of years ago I started thinking."  
  
"There's a first."  
  
"Leo, hush. I want to hear this."  
  
Raphael smirked at his brothers and continued. "I mean, I've been trying to track down Mike for years now. And every time I think I get a lead, it turns out to be something else. I mean I've found more things like us, either created by science, magic or nature on a bad day than I care to think about. Some of then were pretty damned friendly, and a few contributed to the number of scars I carry, but all in all there are a lot of things out there that the humans don't know about. I've started talking to them, building up a network."  
  
"A network?"  
  
"Werewolves in Arizona, Selkies in Newfoundland, mutant Cats in New Jersey, Sidhe in Oregon. Not all of them will talk with each other, but they will all talk with me. What's so damned funny Leo?"  
  
Leonardo attempted to stifle a snicker and failed miserably. "Of all the things you could have turned out to be, of all of the possible futures you had lined up for you, I have to admit, I never pictured you as a.diplomat."  
  
Donatello guffawed before he had a chance to cover it up, then became intensely interested in his fingernails when Raphael glared at him. Switching his gaze back to Leonardo, Raphael got up slowly and stood over his brother, who was still chuckling to himself. The silence stretched out and lengthened. The corner of Raphael's mouth twitched. Once, twice. He lost the battle too and started to laugh.  
  
"Yeah, I can see that. I wasn't the most diplomatic person in New York was I? Speaking of changes Leo, you've certainly mellowed out in the past few years. Somebody spiking your Corn Flakes in the morning?"  
  
Leonardo opened his mouth to answer when he was interrupted by Tammy bursting through the front door again. She was clutching a baseball bat and a huge white softball. "Unca Raph, wanna play baseball?" She asked, dragging the undersized kid's bat behind her.  
  
Donatello took one look at Casey's daughter, baseball bat in hand and started to laugh again. "Really is her fathers daughter isn't she?" He managed to choke out before needing to turn away, collapsing into incoherence.  
  
"Nut." Raphael tossed over his shoulder, then knelt down by Tammy. "Sure thing short stuff. Lets go." He took the softball from her, and followed as she dashed out into the yard, her squeals a child-like version of Casey's war cries.  
  
Suddenly from inside the house there was a loud crash, followed immediately by Casey's voice shouting an impressive array of epithets. Donatello raised an eye ridge at Leonardo and said. "I believe that's my cue." He got up and sauntered into the house, leaving Leonardo on the porch to watch Raphael and Tammy.  
  
He relaxed back into the lawn chair as Raphael tossed the ball to Tammy, slowly and underhanded so she had a good chance at hitting it. He need not have bothered. The bat came swinging around, and with a resounding crack she smacked into the softball. It rose high into the sky in a lazy arc.  
  
"Good shot Tammy!" Raphael called, looking over at the child. As soon as he took his eyes off the ball, Leonardo felt a chill, as if a cloud had passed between him and the sun. He looked up to see, catching the sight of the ball. It seemed to pause in midair, then arrowed in on Raphael's head below.  
  
"Look out!" Leonardo cried.  
  
Raphael looked up and barely managed to throw himself out of the way. The ball landed firmly in the dirt, bounced a little then rolled to a stop. "Damn! Thanks Leo, that'll teach me to keep my eye on the ball!" He winked at Tammy and picked up the renagade softball.  
  
Leonardo shook his head. He couldn't have seen what he though he did. It was impossible. From where he was sitting, he could have sworn that the ball had not only changed direction in mid-flight, it had sped up as it flew. Nah. He was seeing things. Too much of that hot sun on the trip up. Next time he had to get a vehicle, he'd pick up one with air conditioning. Leaving Raphael and Tammy out in the yard, he wandered into the house to unpack his bag and say hello to Casey and April.  
  
* * * INTERLUDE * * *  
  
He backed away from the hayloft doors, slowly and carefully so that the people below wouldn't catch his movements. It was disappointing that Leonardo had seen the baseball curve and had called out that warning, but no matter. That had been an unexpected target of opportunity, and he hadn't really expected it to pan out.  
  
Out of sight from the two still playing baseball in the front, he slid down the ladder quickly. The others were all inside, now would be a perfect time to check on the cars, and make sure that no one would be leaving this party until he was finished with them. This would only take a few minutes, and he would have lots of time to set up the first of the planned surprises for the turtles in the house.  
  
The first of the cars was to his left, an SUV that had seen better days, one that looked like it lived up to all the off road commercials you see on television. This would be Raphael's car. He stopped with his hands hovering just over the hood, and muttered a few words. The information he was looking for flooded into his awareness. No working alarm system. There had been one installed, but from the mess he was reading, Raphael had turned it off one day with a sai through the dashboard. Typical.  
  
He brought his hands down until they touched the hood, and spoke three sharp words under his breath. The strength flowed out of him like water and his knees buckled, but the sensation was brief and passed quickly. One vehicle down, three more to go. It was amazing how dependent all of these cars were on electricity. Changing the copper wiring to glass was more than enough to keep any of them from moving again.  
  
He finished the others quickly, then retreated to the barn again to watch Raphael and Tammy as they played. She was a cute kid, he thought. Too bad she was caught up in all of this when it wasn't her fault. If he could, he'd leave the humans out of it. They weren't responsible for what had happened to him, and he'd never hurt a child before. He wasn't about to start now.  
  
Raphael scooped the little girl up and placed her on his shoulders, and together they headed for the house.  
  
He smiled. Time for the real fun to begin. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Sing."  
  
"Not a chance, Fearless."  
  
"You mistook that for a request Raphael."  
  
"I'm not singing Leo."  
  
"Sing!"  
  
"No!"  
  
Across the table Casey rolled his eyes while Tammy stifled a giggle. Leonardo and Raphael had been going at it for the last five minutes, arguing over whether or not Raphael was going to join in the traditional singing of "Happy Birthday." Donatello leaned over and whispered something to Tammy, who giggled harder.  
  
"Unca Raph?" She interrupted the argument  
  
"You don't get it do you Leo, under no circumstances am I.what is it Tammy?"  
  
"Please?" She shifted back and forth in her seat as she looked at him, huge eyes staring up into his face.  
  
"Um.er.ah." Raphael looked side to side, desperately seeking an escape.  
  
"Don't look at me." Casey piped up. "She's been gleefully getting her way with me since before she could talk."  
  
"You're no help." Raphael muttered. With a sigh he gave in with what little grace he could mutter. "Alright short stuff. If it makes you happy, I'll sing Happy Birthday for you."  
  
"Thank you Unca Raph!"  
  
Raphael turned to Leonardo, who was studying his plate hard, the corner of his mouth twitching. "And as for you, don't."  
  
"Don't what?" Leonardo asked in a slightly choked voice.  
  
"Just don't."  
  
April was in the kitchen, and she shook her head at the interplay she heard from the dining room. It had been too long since the family was all together, she thought to herself. As she lit the last of the candles, she determined that she'd get them to come out more often. Even if she had to smack them all over the head and kidnap them to do it.  
  
Five candles twinkled and danced on top of the double-decker chocolate fudge cake April was carrying, and Casey flipped the lights off as she walked through the door. The five of them were arranged around the dining room table, Tammy surrounded by her father and uncles. Her dinner plate was still in front of her, and April noticed that her carrots had been untouched.  
  
She shot a look at her husband who just shrugged. I'm not making her eat carrots on her birthday, the gesture said. April shook her head, and started to walk around the table.  
  
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you." The chorus started. Raphael was singing just as loudly as the rest of them, but there was a gleam in his eye that promised an imminent and painful demise for anyone who made a big deal about it later.  
  
Leonardo was having a hard time with where he should be looking. He should be watching April make her way around behind him with the birthday cake, but the look on Raphael's face was priceless. He may have grown out of the rebel without a cause phase, but he still had a temper, and it was starting to simmer. Of course, if he caught Leonardo staring at him, the simmer would go to full boil in about half a second. With a purely internal chuckle he turned to watch April. A sound cut over the singing at the table, and they all faltered to a stop. Leonardo turned red. He hadn't actually chuckled out loud had he? No, that wasn't it, the sound came again, and he definitely wasn't the one who made it. The noise was a high- pitched giggle that grated along Leonardo's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. There was no source that he could tell, it seemed to emanate from the air over the table.  
  
"What the hell?" Casey started to stand up when the cake April was carrying exploded into flame.  
  
The candles flared up like blowtorches, pillars of flame three feet tall and burning a fierce orange and yellow. April dropped the platter and lunged backwards, away from the sudden wash of heat. The giggling got louder, and the flames snapped out like whips towards Leonardo.  
  
He dodged three, but the remaining two managed to latch onto his wrists, wrapping themselves around tightly. There was a sizzling noise and he paled, a noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper escaping his lips. He'd been burned before, but nothing like this. It was excruciating. He pulled, but the flames pulled back, trying to hold him still as the other three coiled like snakes, ready to strike again. He could hear the shouts and screams of the others around the table, but all of his attention was focused on getting away from whatever it was that held him bound.  
  
One of the remaining flames lashed out, licking across his plastron. That didn't hurt as much, but it was still uncomfortably warm. I'm not getting free from this. The thought settled into a sick little lump in his stomach. The flames around his wrists spread his arms wide, like they were trying to pull him apart. Any second now, the others would latch on to him, and that would be-  
  
Splash! Leonardo fell to the ground spluttering and coughing in the sudden flood of water, then reached up to wipe his eyes. Hands gripped his elbow, and he glanced up to see Donatello helping him to his feet. Casey was trying to check on April and Tammy simultaneously and Raphael stood in the doorway, the rain barrel from outside still in his hands. "Thanks."  
  
"Anytime." Raphael dropped the barrel and moved warily into the room. "Does anyone have the foggiest notion what the hell that was?"  
  
Donatello looked up from his examination of Leonardo's wrists. "Sorry, the only explanation I can come up with right now would come straight from late night horror shows." He turned his brothers arm over and examined the skin carefully. "Hmm, there isn't much I can do for these right now. I don't have the right equipment to deal with burns this severe. Best I can do here is bandage them up to keep them clean."  
  
"Late night horror show?" Casey looked up from where he held Tammy as she sobbed.  
  
"Don't tell me you never watched Poltergeist?"  
  
"Ghosts?! Doesn't that seem a little farfetched to-" Casey was cut off by a crash.  
  
Raphael jerked to his left. The detonation was right beside his ear. "What now?" In answer to his question, another plate flew through the door, this one shattering into a thousand pieces on Raphael's arm instead of the wall beside his head.  
  
Tammy started to scream again, and Casey instinctively curled around her, his back to the doorway as more dishes came pelting through it at high speed. April dived behind the table and the three turtles turned so that their shells took up most of the damage. They were moving to cover the humans when the barrage suddenly stopped.  
  
"I'm starting to get fed up with this." Raphael growled as he straightened up again. "What else is this thing going to throw at us?"  
  
"I wish you hadn't asked that question, Raph." April looked at the kitchen with open dismay. Almost unnoticed, the giggling had started again, and it increased in volume as Raphael looked over his shoulder. Hovering in the doorway were all the knives from the kitchen.  
  
"Incoming!" He yelled as he dived for Casey and Tammy. Donatello slid over the table to land beside April, pulling her to his chest and turning his shell to the door. The Table wobbled and crashed to the floor one leg splintered. Leonardo joined Raphael in protecting Casey and his daughter just in time. The knives sped from the doorway and he felt the hard, poundings of hits as they impacted against his shell. The giggling faded away again, but this time nobody moved for several minutes, fully expecting another barrage of items from the kitchen.  
  
Finally Leonardo raised his head again. "Is everyone OK?" he ignored the sharp pain in his wrists as he pushed himself upright.  
  
"A few cuts over here, but nothing serious." Donatello called.  
  
Casey ignored the bleeding gash on his arm as he checked over Tammy. "She's not hurt." He finally confirmed. The three turtles had their share of shallow cuts as well, but most of the knives had impacted on their shells, and lodged there. Without that protection there was a good chance that everyone in the room would have been dead.  
  
"What next Leo?" Donatello looked at him, falling back into old childhood patterns without a second thought.  
  
Leonardo didn't even have to consider it. "We're leaving. Now. You and Casey check the yard. Make sure we're clear to get to the cars. Raph, stick close to April and Tammy, I've got rear guard."  
  
"You got it, Leo."  
  
Smoothly they moved out, Casey and Donatello slipping into the yard. Raphael pulled a large butcher knife out of Leonardo's shell and tested the edge with a tight grin. There was a sharp whistle from the far side of the barn, and April picked up Tammy, then followed Raphael out of the house. Leonardo paused on the doorstep, then said quietly "This isn't over."  
  
His only reply was a soft giggle.  
  
They reached the cars without incident, the usual sounds of life at the farm echoing through the yard. The creak of the weather vane on top of the barn, and the constant burr of crickets hiding in the long grass. Donatello was in the drivers seat of his van, turning the key, and using several words that Leonardo was fairly sure he shouldn't know the meaning of, and that Tammy definitely shouldn't be hearing for another twenty years, at least. "Leo, check your truck. This inbred son of a Yugo isn't turning over."  
  
Leonardo climbed into his truck, and slid the key into the ignition. There wasn't even a click when he turned the key. Two more attempts yielded similar results. Donatello was still swearing, but now he was out of the van and rummaging around under the hood. "When you run out of words, I have a few you can use." Leonardo offered as he stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door.  
  
"Not good. All of the wiring systems have been completely compromised! There is no way I can get this thing running without two weeks of work and a full auto shop." Donatello closed the hood and rubbed a grease-smudged finger over his eye ridge. "Whatever's in the house obviously doesn't want us to leave just yet."  
  
"Well, that's just too bad. If we can't drive, we walk." Leonardo opened the hatch on the back of his truck and reached along the sides until he found a cloth wrapped bundle strapped securely in place. Releasing the straps with a well practiced flip of his thumb he removed the bundle and started to unwrap it.  
  
"What's that Unca Leo?" Turning in April's arm, Tammy watched Leonardo with interest.  
  
"My work clothes." He drew the paired katanas from the folds of cloth and carefully leaned them against the side of the truck. They weren't his best pair, those were in his room in the house. Training and paranoia made it impossible for him to travel with only a single set of weapons however. There had been too many times that he had had his weapons of choice be unavailable, forcing him to rely on whatever he could get his hands on. The belt went around his waist, and the straps came over his shoulders to attatch at the front. Wordlessly Casey pulled the rest of the knives out of his shell. He kept one for himself, the rest went into the truck with the door shut firmly.  
  
Leonardo took a deep breath to center himself, and stood up. He finished knotting the mask around his face, then opened his eyes as he reached for the swords leaning against the truck. With a smooth, practiced motion they were both sheathed. When he turned around, a flicker of a grin crossed his face. Both of his brothers carried the tools of their trade in their cars as well it seemed. Raphael was idly twirling another pair of sais, and Donatello was examining the wrappings on a bo staff he held. Both were wearing their masks again, but while Raphael had ditched his leather jacket, the back torn from all the knives that had pierced it, Donatello stubbornly retained his coat, perforated as it was.  
  
He let his eyes move to the remainder of their group. April had Tammy calmed down, and she was watching the proceedings with large eyes from her seat on the ground. This would be the first time she had seen him carrying weaponry, and he wondered what she thought of it. Casey was tying his hair back into a pony tail to keep it out of his eyes, a large butcher knife carefully inserted into his belt and a tire iron hooked over his shoulder to keep it out of his way. April also carried a knife now, although no other weapon. She needed her other hand free to carry Tammy.  
  
"Is everybody ready to move?" Leonardo looked around, and was satisfied with the response he saw in everyone's eyes. "Then lets go."  
  
This time he took the lead, setting a brisk pace. Casey and Donatello took left and right flanks respectively and Raphael hung back for rear guard. April stayed near the center, one arm wrapped around Tammy, the other hand anxiously toying with the knife hilt. It was late afternoon and the warlike party looked distinctly out of place on the farm road. They quickly left the farm house behind, and made good time down the road towards the highway.  
  
As they approached the last bend, Leonardo dropped back and motioned Casey ahead of him. From this point onwards the turtles would have to stay out of sight. It would be best if April and Casey took Tammy up to their neighbors place and tried for transportation back to the city. Casey went around the bend, and stopped in his tracks.  
  
"Trouble?" Leonardo was instantly alert, waiting for Casey to identify what the problem was.  
  
"I don't believe this." Casey sounded shocked  
  
Leonardo crept forward and glanced around the corner. What he saw rooted him to the ground and he flat out gaped. Around the corner was the yard for the farmhouse. Somehow, they had gotten turned around, and ended up right back where they started.  
  
"What's happening? Are we going to go or what?" Donatello was still watching the woods to the right.  
  
"There's a problem with that." Casey stated flatly. "We're back at the house."  
  
"What?! That's impossible!"  
  
"Great job Fearless. You managed to lead us in a full circle on a road that doesn't have any turn offs." Raphael crossed his arms.  
  
"Drop it, Raph." Leonardo's voice was cold.  
  
"Still can't deal with anyone questioning your judgment? Funny, I thought you'd grown out of that. My mistake."  
  
"Don't be any more of an ass than you have to, Raphael. We don't have time for it."  
  
"Ah, I see. Our 'Great Leader' has spoken has he? That's the end of the discussion. Just like he decided that our brother wasn't alive anymore, and we shouldn't waste our time looking? That was the news you tried to break so gently too me, right?" Raphael had moved up until about six inches separated him and Leonardo.  
  
Leonardo was forcefully reminded exactly why he hadn't seen Raphael in several years. Last time they'd ended up face to face, they had had the same argument, and Raphael had stalked out of the private wedding reception for April and disappeared for six months. The letters had started up again slowly, but it had been a near thing. That incident was the closest the two had come to drawing weapons on each other since they were adolescents. "That's not how it was. And this isn't the time or place Raphael." He stated quietly, visibly reigning in his temper.  
  
"No, it never is, is it?" Raphael sneered.  
  
The silence stretched for nearly a minute as the two stared at each other. Then they turned away simultaneously. An agreement had been reached. This wasn't the end, but a postponement. One way or another, the two of them would finish this conversation at some point when they weren't being stalked by malevolent ghost/s, or whatever the hell it/they was.  
  
"OK, we try this again. This time I want everyone to keep their eyes open for anything strange. Speak up if you feel dizzy, even for a second. Somehow this thing is turning us around, and we have to avoid that." Get a grip Leo, he thought to himself. You're repeating the obvious. "We've got about an hour before it starts getting dark out here, so let's go."  
  
As they moved out, a breath of wind stirred across the road, moving the dust to cover their tracks as they made them. This time, they could all hear the giggling that accompanied it. Determined to ignore it, they continued on.  
  
"Mommy, what's that?" It was nearly twenty minutes later when Tammy spoke up. The wind and the giggling had died down a while before, and they had continued on in silence.  
  
"What's what honey?" April turned to look in the direction Tammy was pointing. She caught the briefest glimpse of a black shadow underneath the trees before it flitted away. "Guys! Company!" She called.  
  
Donatello was the closest. He sprinted over, hurdling the bushes that lined the road. He examined the ground, then shook his head. "There was nothing here, or at least nothing that left tracks." He called.  
  
"I know I saw something!" April asserted.  
  
"I don't doubt you but.."  
  
"To the right!" Casey interrupted. This time they all saw it. A pool of shadow with a gleam of red eyes. It stayed still for all of a second before it disappeared. Faded away, like an after image.  
  
"Lets keep moving." Leonardo motioned the others forward. The shadow thing reappeared and disappeared frequently, always at the edge of the woods, always out of reach of the nearest of them. Occasionally it could be seen flitting across the road ahead or behind them, and they all slowly became conscious of a whispering noise. Almost intelligible, almost words, but never quite.  
  
Tammy had become quiet again, burying her face in Aprils neck. It was getting darker out as dusk settled in, and more and more eyes could be seen gleaming out of the deepening shadows beside the road. Raphael waved at everyone to stay where they were, and jogged out ahead. He turned the final bend and disappeared from view.  
  
"Damn!" His voice could be clearly heard echoing back to them, and Leonardo slumped. He'd expected as much. Somehow they'd been turned around again and were back at the house. Raphael returned from around the bend, scowling like a thundercloud.  
  
"Conference time people." Leonardo called. As they gathered by him he took care to meet everyone's eyes as he looked around the circle. "Its getting dark and those shadows are getting braver. We've got two choices that I can see. We either make a third try at getting off the property, or we head back into the house and try again in the morning."  
  
"Great plan, Leo. You're assuming we're still going to be alive in the morning." Raphael interrupted.  
  
"Look whatever this thing is, it hasn't attacked any of us directly. Everything that's done any damage whatsoever has been something it's manipulated. We've pretty much proven that we can't walk out of here on the roads, and I am not taking Tammy through the woods with those things lurking around." He glanced over his shoulder and saw three pairs of glowing red eyes, just under the trees watching them patiently. "We get up to the rooms, and we sleep in shifts. Come morning, we leave, even if I have to drag the house with us." There was silence assent all around for the plan. Raphael didn't look thrilled with the idea, but he didn't have anything better to offer, so he kept his mouth shut.  
  
"OK, I've got point going back in." Leonardo straightened up and unsheathed both his katana. He straightened and walked out into the yard, the others following about fifteen feet behind him. From the corners of his eyes he could see the shadows pacing along the edges of the clearing, keeping abreast of him, but oddly they were no longer threatening, more as if they were a simple escort. He reached the steps of the porch, and as he stood on the first one, the porch light clicked on and the door swung open.  
  
Leonardo ignored the familiar chill screaming along his spine and continued up the steps, the others behind him. As he stepped across the threshold, he tensed, waiting for an attack. There was nothing. A glance to his left showed the living room the way he had left it, and to his right was the dining room. Someone (something?) had cleaned up the mess made earlier. The table was standing on all four legs again, and there was a neat pile of plate shards in the middle of the floor.  
  
"Whoa. Now that is spooky."  
  
Leonardo let out an undignified squeak as he nearly levitated from shock. He spun to face Raphael, who was standing just behind him. "Don't. EVER. Do. That. Again." He hissed.  
  
Raphael just smirked.  
  
They made their way upstairs, but everything remained quiet. By common consent, they did not split and go to their own rooms, but instead all piled into the master bedroom. April put Tammy on the bed, and the boys gathered by the door to determine the watch rotation. Donatello and Casey were both arguing for the first watch, and Tammy grimaced. Mommy was in the bathroom with the door open, running cold water and washing her face.  
  
With a sly glance to make sure everyone was still occupied, little Tammy stood up stealthily and turned on the television. Happily she clambered back up on the bed to watch her favorite cartoon, Adolescent Abnormal Jujitsu Gerbils.  
  
The discussion of who had first watch had come down to a seemingly endless game of rock paper scissors between the two when April walked out of the bathroom, toweling her face. She took in the scene at a glance and started towards the huddle at the door when she did a double take. She looked hard at Tammy, who was already absorbed into her cartoon, then turned.  
  
"Guys,"  
  
"I don't care if it's your house now, I'm in better shape than you ever were, spazoid." Donatello stated.  
  
"Guys." She tried again.  
  
"In your dreams Shellback! I'm in great shape!"  
  
"Guys!" April yelled.  
  
"What?!" they all turned around, the turtles dropping into defensive postures.  
  
"Look." She pointed at Tammy and the television.  
  
They stared for a moment, and Leonardo asked in a slightly puzzled voice. "She's watching cartoons, what's wrong with that?"  
  
"Two things, Leo. First, we don't have cable out here, and second," She took a deep breath. "second, the TV isn't plugged in."  
  
They looked, again, and almost like a dog wagging its tail, the unplugged cord of the television wavered, then dropped. The picture disappeared from the screen and they could all hear the giggling again, but it faded quickly.  
  
"What happened to my cartoon?" Tammy asked with a pout.  
  
Casey stepped in rather quickly at that point. "Its bedtime, squirt. We had to turn the TV off." He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his lap. "We'll turn out the lights and before you know it, it'll be morning!"  
  
"Daddy, can we leave the lights on instead?" Tammy's voice quavered a little.  
  
Casey glanced around at everyone, but no one raised any objections to the idea. "Alright then, the lights can stay on." He looked up at Donatello. "Looks like you get first watch after all."  
  
"Wrong. I get first watch." Leonardo stated. "I'll wake Raph in two hours, Don, you have third watch and wake me again for the final one. Casey, I want you to stay with your daughter." His tone didn't leave much room for argument.  
  
"You got it Fearless." Raphael leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he was fast asleep.  
  
Donatello looked at him with awe. "I wish I knew where he learned to do that." He muttered.  
  
Leonardo didn't answer him, he just slipped out the door to begin his first watch.  
  
Most of the night passed uneventfully, the humans asleep on the bed, and the turtles taking turns on watch. Donatello yawned into his hand, and glanced at the clock down the hall. Nearly four in the morning. Ten more minutes and he could wake Leonardo up for the final shift. Donatello walked down the hallway towards the stairs. There had been the occasional noise from the living room, but nothing had materialized and he was willing to let it slide. Raphael had been complaining about noises from the kitchen during his shift.  
  
He paused at the head of the stairs, cocking his head to one side. All was quiet. With a shrug he started to turn. Or at least he attempted to, his feet wouldn't move. "What the?" He looked down and was rewarded by the sight of a lamp cord twining around his ankles like a cat craving attention. He reached down to pull it away when a movement from the corner of his eye distracted him. He glanced up and froze. There was someone standing right there, and they hadn't been there a moment ago. "Who are you?" he snarled, bringing the bo staff around.  
  
The figure stepped into the patch of moonlight, allowing it to illuminate his features. A wide grin touched his face. "Boo." He whispered, then pushed the shocked Donatello down the stairs.  
  
Donatello covered his head with his hands as he rattled down the staircase, his mind gibbering that it was impossible, he hadn't seen who he thought he did. It just couldn't happen. He slid to a stop in the foyer, and levered himself up onto one arm. There was nobody at the top of the stairs. The lamp cord was still locking his ankles securely in place and again he reached to remove it when something else distracted him, this time a sound.  
  
He looked over to his right and gulped. The wardrobe, the one that had taken three of them to wrestle into the house it was so heavy, had started to tip forward. There was no way he was getting out from under it in time. He frantically wracked his brains for a solution, and he whispered the only thing that came to mind, breathing it out like a prayer. "Oh shit..."  
  
Leonardo was woken up by series of thudding noises, followed by a loud crash. He was up and out the door in less than a second, Raphael on his heels. Donatello wasn't in the hallway where he should have been. They ran for the stairs. "Jesus wept," Leonardo breathed as he took in the scene laid out before him. Below they could see the remains of the wardrobe where it had crashed to the floor, and from underneath, Donatello's hand.  
  
"April! Casey! Wake up, we need help out here!" he called over his shoulder as Raphael vaulted past him and down the staircase. Leonardo was at his side in a moment, grabbing the other side of the wardrobe and lifting carefully.  
  
"Damnit! Not enough room to move it. Leo, can you hold it?" Raphael asked as he looked around.  
  
"I, think, so." Leonardo gasped, muscles cording and standing out in his neck.  
  
"I'm going to have to pull Don out from underneath it. You ready? On three, one, two..three!"  
  
Leonardo's arms shook as he took the full weight of the wardrobe. Don't think he admonished himself. Its only weight, just relax, let your chi take the burden. Breathe. Never more than you can handle, you can let go at any time, but you can hold it for another few seconds, a few seconds won't matter, you can hold it, hold it,  
  
"Done!"  
  
Leonardo let the wardrobe crash to the ground again and drew in a shaky breath. He vaulted the wreckage to where Raphael sat, Donatello's head cradled in his lap.  
  
"He's alive, and I can't find any broken bones. He's going to have one hell of a goose egg though." Raphael gestured to the rather ugly bruise that was already forming on Donatello's forehead. "Possible concussion, his skull isn't as thick as yours."  
  
"Ha. Ha. Are you done?" Leonardo glanced up the stairs again. "April, Casey, get down here! We need a hand!"  
  
"They can't hear you."  
  
Leonardo froze. My god, that voice.  
  
"They won't wake up until everything is over with, and it's too late."  
  
Leonardo turned slowly, and faced the person lounging in the kitchen doorway, a cup of fresh tea in one hand.  
  
"We have lots to discuss, don't we, brothers?" Michaelangelo stepped forward, the hate in the last word oozing from his mouth. He looked at the shocked expressions on Leonardo's and Raphael's faces and giggled. It was the same giggle they had heard too often over the last several hours, grating up and down their nerves, and nothing resembling sanity in the sound. 


	5. Chapter 5

Leonardo was frozen with shock. Of all the things that could have been happening, of all the possible enemies they could have been facing, the last thing he had expected was to find his missing brother. Michaelangelo caught and held his eyes, a hint of a grin hovering around his mouth. He raised his teacup in a mock salute and took a sip. Behind him, Leonardo could feel that Raphael had not moved either, still seated on the floor with Donatello's head in his lap. The silence stretched, broken only by the ticking of an old clock mounted on the wall. Leonardo tried to say something, anything, but he couldn't get his brain and mouth to work at all, never mind with one another. Raphael managed to pull it together first.  
  
"Mikey?" His voice was little more than a whisper. With great care he lay Donatello to one side and clambered to his feet. "God Mike, why?" The anguish in Raphael's tone tore at Leonardo.  
  
Michaelangelo straightened up in the doorway, and sipped his tea again. "That's all you have to say to me? 'Why'?"  
  
"I admit, the surprise on your faces was pretty gratifying. Funny though, I haven't seen the family in ten years, but there's no 'Hey good to see you Mike,' or 'Mikey! Where have you been?'" He took a single step forward and his expression flickered. "Of course, you never bothered to find me, so maybe you just didn't care." His voice dropped to a growl with the last few words. "Perhaps you felt relieved, that the prankster, the one who couldn't take anything seriously was gone. Now you could move on, and get the important stuff done. No more little dumb brother slowing you down."  
  
"No, it wasn't like..."  
  
"Shut up!" Michaelangelo screamed. The amount of raw anger pouring from him enough to choke the words in Leonardo's throat. He turned towards the kitchen, then glanced back over his shoulder at the three of them. "I waited for you, y'know? I waited and hoped that my brothers would come and help me, come and save me. That's what brothers did right? Be there for each other. Like that song they used to play, remember?" And he started to sing, his voice as cheerful and bright as it had been angry a moment before.  
  
"Lean on me, when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on. Just call on me brother..." his voice trailed off and he turned completely away from the others.  
  
"Mike," Raphael took another step forward.  
  
"I thought I told you to shut up." Mike said almost conversationally as he spun in place and pointed at the two of them. He hissed a word, and Leonardo felt his tongue go stiff, and useless in his mouth.  
  
"Uuagh!" He tried to speak, attempting to force his tongue to work but couldn't manage anything intelligible. From the choking noises to his left, Raphael was having similar difficulties.  
  
Michaelangelo was smiling again, and Leonardo was quickly learning to be wary of that smile.  
  
"Neat trick huh? I wave my hand and you both sound like drunks after a three day bender." Michaelangelo's grin got wider. "Now, I'm sure you're just dying," his eyes lit at the thought, "to know how I did that. Would you believe me if I said magic? Actually, I don't think it matters if you believe me or not, its true. I've had ten years to get really good at it." He giggled again. "Ten years is a long time Leo, Raph. Oh and we can't forget you either Don!" he called to the third one who was still unconscious on the floor. I'll forgive you if you don't pay much attention. You're a little distracted.  
  
"As for you two however, I think its time for a little bedtime story." Michaelangelo moved closer, and Leonardo and Raphael automatically closed ranks to keep between him and Donatello. He stopped and shot the two an amused smile. "That won't stop me when the time comes, but if it makes you feel better, go ahead." He spoke with the air of someone conferring a favor. "Now, this story I have in mind is a little different than what you're used to. One of the nicer tricks I learned is how to tell these in technicolor." Both of his hands shot up and the palms brushed their foreheads before they could react.  
  
Leonardo found himself trapped in a whirling maelstrom of color, sound and light. The farmhouse whisked away from his mind. Confusion battered his senses mercilessly and he howled, but couldn't tell if he'd done so out loud, or only in his mind. There was no up or down, forwards or backwards, left or right. He was pulled and pushed in every direction, and somehow none of them all at the same time. After an eternity (or was it only just a second?) the world began to right itself. The colors solidified and bled into brown walls, gray floors and rusted pipes overhead. The sounds receded until it was nothing more than a far away dripping of water somewhere in the sewers, and closer tiny voices emanating from the television speaker. The light faded until it was a single uncovered bulb screwed into a light fixture high up on one wall.  
  
With a start Leonardo recognized their old home, when they still lived in the sewers. They had all called it the 'lair', and it was the last place the four of them were a family. His view shifted suddenly, and he saw himself. A younger version of himself-sitting at the kitchen table-reading a book. The light hit the cover for a second, illuminating the title. The Diamond Throne? But I was reading that the night that he... It came to Leonardo in a flash what Michaelangelo had done. Somehow, he had sent him back to that night, and was showing him what had happened. He felt his throat move, although he had no control over what was happening. A disembodied spirit, all he could do was observe.  
  
"Hey Leo? I'm starving, lets go get something to eat." Michaelangelo said, leaning through the door of the kitchen.  
  
"Huh? Oh, not yet Mikey, I want to finish my book." Leonardo waved the book, which he was only half way through.  
  
"That's going to take forever! Come on, food won't take that long!"  
  
"I'm really not in the mood tonight, Mike, why don't you ask Donny or Raph if they want to go?" Leonardo's voice was distracted, his eyes still skimming the page.  
  
With a shrug for his oldest sibling, Michaelangelo turned and headed for the living room. Donatello and Raphael were both parked on the couch, neither of them paying much attention to what was happening on the television and gleefully arguing over the remote. Donatello seemed to currently be on top for once, holding the remote far behind him with one hand, the other planted firmly in the middle of Raphael's face and pushing him in the opposite direction.  
  
"Cheers!"  
  
"Die Hard!"  
  
"Cheers!" back and forth it went, the two shouting out their program of choice.  
  
Michaelangelo watched them for a moment, then spoke up. "I'm going to go out and get a pizza. Either of you want to come with?" There was no answer from the two on the couch, in fact he was fairly sure neither had heard him over their own noise. "Somehow I didn't think so." He muttered to himself. "Later guys!"  
  
He turned and shrugged into his trench coat, jamming a fedora onto his head. He was a little disappointed that no one was coming with him, but that was hardly unusual. His brothers normally weren't that interested in joining him on these runs. He took a last look around the lair, then slipped out the door quietly. Trudging silently through the sewers, he kept to the walkways on either side of the dark unidentifiable liquid that oozed through the center of the tunnels. He easily caught the rungs of the ladder nearest the pizzeria and quickly climbed to street level. Once out of the sewers he took a deep breath. It was late, but New York never slept. He could see the moon high in the sky, nearly full as it watched over the city. Shoving his hands in his pockets he quickly walked the half block to Pizza Heaven, his favorite place.  
  
A quick glance in the front window showed him the place was empty with the exception of Sharene at the front counter. He slipped inside quietly, managing to keep the door chime from ringing through long practice. He crept up to the counter on silent feet, watching her as she read a magazine by the cash register. As he neared to within a few feet he piped up suddenly and loudly, "Hiya Sharene!"  
  
She yipped and jumped in place. Turning, she fixed Michaelangelo with a glare. "Mike! I've asked you over and over not to do that!"  
  
"I know, its just too much fun. Can I get the usual?"  
  
Sharene put the magazine down and called towards the back of the restaurant. "Hey Allison! One turtle special to go! It is to go, right?" She checked with Michaelangelo, who nodded an affirmative.  
  
Floating up from the bowels of the kitchen, a faint voice could be heard yelling back, "Hi Mike!" Followed by a crash of something being tossed on the counter.  
  
Sharene and Michaelangelo chatted amiably for the next twenty minutes or so while Allison banged around in the kitchen putting together his order. Finally the cook appeared from the back, a stack of pizza boxes in one hand. She slid them over to him and waved a quick hello/goodbye before diving back into her kitchen.  
  
He paid for the pizzas and waved off the invitation to stick around for a while, saying that he needed to get supper back home, but he promised to hang out next time for a bit. Expertly balancing the load of pizza boxes, he slipped out the door, this time accompanied by a cheerful jangle of the chimes.  
  
He was walking briskly back towards the manhole when a noise caught his attention. The manhole was in the end of a dark alley, making it perfect for him to enter and exit unseen by the general populace, but it sounded as if someone had entered and parked themselves in the alley since he'd gone into the pizza place. Setting the boxes carefully on a garbage can, where they would be out of the dirt, he reached under his coat and pulled out a pair of nunchucks. On cat-quiet feet he stalked forward.  
  
There was definitely someone there. He could hear them breathing. They were past the manhole cover, right up against the back wall. He could see the shape now. The person was huddled on the ground, facing into the corner. The breathing was broken, and Michaelangelo came to the conclusion whoever it was was crying. He stayed back in the shadows, but called out. "Hey, are you ok?" he pitched his voice softly so that it hopefully wouldn't startle them.  
  
The person turned around and he felt his breath catch in his throat. The person was female, and beautiful. She had long dark hair, impossible to tell the color in the shadows of the alley and huge pale eyes. She had been crying, and she looked clearly to where he stood in the shadow. "I'm sorry." She whispered.  
  
"For what?" Michaelangelo tried to say, but it was too late. She opened her mouth again and began to sing. It was indescribable. The voice of an angel, a demon, he didn't know. All he knew was that he didn't want it to stop. He would do anything he could to keep her singing, and if she asked him to throw himself off a building, he would have complied gladly. Woodenly he stepped out of the shadows and dropped to a crouch at her feet. Everything else was forgotten. His supper, the need to go home, everything. She stood up and started to walk down the alley, still singing. Unable to help himself, and unwilling to try, Michaelangelo followed her.  
  
He didn't know or care how far they walked, or who if anyone saw him. His eyes drank in the long flow of her hair and he drowned in her song. She entered a building and he followed. Inside the building it was too dark for him to see well, but he could still hear her. Following the sound of her voice he found himself crawling into the back camper of a truck. Her song took on a new note, and Michaelangelo hastened to obey. By feel he found the thick metal collar and eagerly fastened it around his throat. He threw his nunchucks to the far corner of the trailer and reached around for the other item she was singing about. There they were. The manacles were a little trickier to fasten on his own wrists, but somehow he managed. There was an audible click as they closed.  
  
As if that was a sign the beautiful stranger stopped singing. For a brief second Michaelangelo was left desolate by the silence, and then like a whipped dog returning to his master, his will seeped back and with growing horror and rage he realized what he had done, what she had told him to do with her song.  
  
"You witch!" He snarled and lunged at her. The chains on the manacles jerked him to a painful stop long before he could wrap his hands around her neck.  
  
"Now, now, watch your language." The lights snapped on and Michaelangelo winced, turning away from the glare, his eyes watering. The person who had spoken moved forward to stand next to the woman.  
  
He blinked the tears away and glared. The man was tall, a little over six feet and in good shape. His chest and arms stretched the seams of the expensive suit he wore and his blonde hair was trimmed neatly and slicked back flat against his skull. It was hard to tell how old he was, he had that sort of ageless complexion where he could be anywhere from twenty to forty. The smile on his lips did not touch his ice blue eyes. "Well, you're the most interesting acquisition I've made in a long time." He strolled forward with his head cocked to one side. "A humanoid turtle in a bandit mask carrying martial arts toys. Intriguing. I wonder, can you actually use your little sticks?"  
  
Michaelangelo tested the chains and stared at his captor. "Cut me loose and find out." He invited.  
  
"Oh, I don't think so. At least, not yet. Now, since it's your first day, lets go over the rules."  
  
"Sorry pal, I don't plan on being here long enough for it to matter." Michaelangelo interrupted.  
  
"Rule one. Don't talk back." He sketched a gesture in the air with his left hand, and Michaelangelo stiffened, head thrown back in a soundless scream of agony. He shook like a leaf in a storm, but as suddenly as it had started, it was over. He slumped to his knees, as far as the chains would allow him to fall, somehow drained.  
  
The blonde man continued as if nothing had happened. "Rule two. If you must speak to me, call me Master."  
  
"Not like-earrgh!" this time he didn't wait for the turtle to finish his sentence, but hit him with the pain immediately. When Michaelangelo came back to himself, this time he was hanging from the chains, breath coming in short gasps that were nearly sobs. He could taste blood in his mouth where he must have bit his tongue.  
  
"Don't concentrate on being too stubborn my young friend. I'd hate to have to injure you permanently. Now, shall we continue the lesson?"  
  
He didn't know how many hours later the sadist finally left, but Michaelangelo was simply grateful he was gone. The man seemed to run a travelling circus of sorts, but it sounded more freak show than entertainment. The Ringmaster had made a hobby of collecting oddities, strange creatures and mutants and adding them to the show. What shocked him most was the flagrant use of magic his captor displayed. Not simply the chi that Master Splinter had been attempting to teach him, but honest to gods magic, like in any fantasy book he had ever read. Too weird.  
  
There was a rumble beneath his legs as the trucks shuddered, then started to roll smoothly. Michaelangelo couldn't suppress a chuckle. The guys would never let him live this one down. You were supposed to run away and join the circus, not get kidnapped into it. When he told them about this one, he'd be sure to get ribbed over it. The truck continued to shudder, almost bouncing as it made its way from the building, until it was no longer the truck bed over industrial debris, but Leonardo being rocked out of the memory, like a stone tossed off a hill.  
  
With a nearly physical shock Leonardo found himself back in his own body. He was on his hands and knees in the hallway of the farmhouse. He could see Raphael out of the corner of his eye, already pushing himself to his feet. With a purely internal groan he followed suit, his mind in turmoil. After so long, he finally knew what had happened to his brother that night and why he hadn't come home. His stomach twisted and he grimaced. He also remembered blowing Michaelangelo off that night, and so many previous nights when his youngest brother wanted to do something. Seeing it from the other perspective didn't make him feel particularly good about himself.  
  
"So that was the preliminary round. Ready for more?" Michaelangelo whispered in his ear and Leonardo started. He hadn't realized that he was so close. "There is so much more I want to show you. That was just the one night. Those little lessons in pain continued for years. The bastard made a spectacle of me, had me fight anything and everything he could think of for the amusement of the crowd. Over and over, every day the same, fight or pain. Not just my pain though. The bastard learned early that I had a soft spot for kids." Leonardo gulped when he thought about the implications in that sentence. "Said he made a mint from me, the betters could never believe a turtle could be fast enough to win, no matter what he was fighting. The twisted part is that it wasn't all bad. I made friends in there too. Friends I could actually count on." He could distinctly hear the part Michaelangelo left unsaid. Unlike you. "Let me show you." Again Leonardo felt fingertips brush his forehead and the world dissolved.  
  
Michaelangelo rested his head on crossed arms and stared up at the ceiling. Mentally he added up how much time he'd been here, and was surprised. It had been months since his capture in New York. They were currently in Nebraska, or at least that's where he thought they were. The cities and towns had long since started to blur into one another. It was all the same any ways. Get into town. Set up the tents. Wait for the crowds to show up. Watch Gerry and Samantha on the high wire, and listen to Cynthia sing. Then it was his turn. Go out and put on a good show, fight whoever was on the card for the night. When it was another one of the people that bastard had captured try and go easy on them. It wasn't their fault, they had no more choice than he did about being here.  
  
"Hey Mike!" Came a piping soprano voice from the doorway.  
  
He lifted his head and flashed a grin at the little girl there. Gerry and Sam's kid, little Natalie, grinned back, revealing sharp canine teeth. "What is it kitten?" he called as he swung his legs off the cot and stood up. It had taken him nearly a week to explain that he did not want a kiddie pool full of water to sleep in, thank you very much.  
  
"Adam is gonna do illusions for us tonight, but Mom and Dad don't want to go and won't let me watch on my own so I asked if it would be ok if you took me and they said yes but I have to ask you first, so please can you take me to Adam's trailer to watch the illusions?"  
  
"Whoa! Slow down, kitten. Take a breath once in a while. You're cat people, not dolphin people. At least last time I checked you didn't breathe through the top of your head." He made a show of checking the soft fur between her pointed ears for a blowhole.  
  
Tail lashing she slapped his hand away with a giggle. "Please Mike?"  
  
"Alright Natalie. Go tell your mom that I'll take you."  
  
Natalie squealed, sounding for all the world like a cat with her tail caught in the door and Michaelangelo winced. She disappeared from the doorway and scampered back to where her parents waited. He stood for a moment blocking the door of the trailer he shared with two other captives. Good fellas, but who'd have thought two guys that looked more bird than human could snore that loudly? They were worse than Raphael ever was.  
  
The thought sobered him. He wondered how his brothers were doing, if they were still looking for him. They'd passed back through New York about three months after he'd first been taken, and every night he'd scanned the crowds, hoping and praying that he'd see a familiar face, a familiar shape cloaked in trench coat and fedora. There'd been nothing. It took nearly a week to emerge from the depression that had descended on him after that.  
  
He knew what the problem was, it was the damned collars. They all wore one. Can't take it off, can't run away, can't attack the bastard running the show. The enchantments were all pretty simple things, but they bound him completely and transgressions were punished with pain. He knew that he couldn't get out of here on his own and his brothers seemed unable to find him to help. Shaking off the dark mood that was trying to settle like a cloak around his shoulders, he started after Natalie. At least the bastard he had to call "Master" to his face left them pretty much alone between shows.  
  
Adam had already started by the time the two of them arrived. They quietly took seats and watched the show. Adam was one of the few purely human members of this little carnival, but he to wore one of the hated collars. A little old man, he had a neatly trimmed short gray beard and a shock of white hair. Michaelangelo could look him in the eye with out straining his neck, and found that the shy, reserved face he turned to the world hid a wicked sense of humor. Rumor also had it that the ringmaster had been Adam's apprentice at one point, and keeping his old teacher around as an attraction in his twisted little circus was an obscure revenge of some kind.  
  
The show was amazing. Faeries danced and dragons flew. Invisible hands braided flowers that looked like they were spun out of glass, right into Cynthia's hair as she laughed. Michaelangelo smiled at her as she turned around and around, trying to catch whatever it was. It hadn't taken long for him to forgive her her part in his capture. It wasn't like she'd had a choice after all, as the collar that glinted around her throat attested. He shook his head slightly. Sirens and cats, wizards and birds. One lone turtle that happened to know ninjitsu seemed nearly normal in this menagerie.  
  
It was late when Adam finally called a halt to the evening. "To bed children!" he called, making a shooing motion with his hands. "You've exhausted me again. Away with you!" There was a lot of good-natured laughter and a few friendly insults called out before the party broke up. Cynthia picked Natalie up and promised to deliver her to her parents on the way back to her own trailer.  
  
Michaelangelo stayed seated while the others dispersed, his eyes clouded in thought. Almost curiously, he held a hand up in front of him. Magic. Could he? He dropped into the breathing exercises that he'd been doing for most of his life, and allowed him mind to fall blank. Finding his center, he brought his chi up. Concentrating, and feeling the energy filling his cupped palm. Quietly, he whispered one of the words Adam had been chanting all night.  
  
KABLAAM! The little pocket of energy ignited with a fury he hadn't been expecting, flashing so bright it blinded him and knocked him backwards off the bench. He lay there in the mud, blinking and trying to get his vision back when a shadow interposed itself between him and the light source.  
  
"You mispronounced it. It's supposed to be ogerakugesk." Adam pointed out conversationally.  
  
"Yeah, I kinda figured I did something wrong." Michaelangelo offered shakily as he clambered to his feet.  
  
"Still, that's not bad for a first try. You wouldn't be the first prospective wizard who's managed to blow himself up a little bit. Give it another shot." Adam encouraged.  
  
Michaelangelo managed to get back to his feet and held his hands out in front of him again. Carefully, he raised the energy from within himself again, and when he was ready he breathed out- "Ogerakugesk."  
  
This time it was different. Instead of exploding in a ball of flame, the energy in his hand whirled around, coalescing into a picture. He opened his eyes and smiled. Cupped on his palm was Master Splinter. The curled whiskers, gray shot muzzle and all. "Hey!" The picture wavered and vanished. He turned to Adam. "What happened?"  
  
"Lack of practice. You'll get better."  
  
"What makes you think I want to learn magic?" Michaelangelo challenged.  
  
"What made you try it in the first place?" Adam shot back. "But hey, it's up to you. If you don't want to, that's fine too." He turned and started to walk away.  
  
"Wait."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"How do I start?"  
  
Smile. "You already have."  
  
* * *  
  
Michaelangelo reached out and zipped up the back of Natalie's costume with thick fingers, attempting to ignore the leaden weight that had taken refuge in his stomach. She didn't seem to notice his preoccupation as she stared in the mirror, ears up and whiskers forward.  
  
"So Mom said tonight is going to be the biggest show since we did New York last month. Do you know who they have you fighting this time?" She twisted left to right then back again, trying to work out any kinks or sore muscles before she had to go out and do her tumbling routine.  
  
Michaelangelo winced at the mention of New York, and the feelings even thinking about the name brought up didn't do anything for his current level of uneasiness. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but he'd been having vague premonitions all day that something wasn't right and all of his feelings were centered around little Natalie and tonight's performance.  
  
Little? Not so much anymore. Nearly sixteen, Natalie was anything but a little girl. It was hard to reconcile the fact that he'd been here nearly ten years, and had watched her grow throughout that time. She'd gone through the skinned knees phase quickly and blossomed early. Now when the customers entered the tents, it wasn't always her fur that made them turn their heads to watch her, especially the males. Michaelangelo felt a surge of protective anger towards her. If anyone laid a finger on her, they'd have to answer to him. And "Uncle" Mike wasn't going to make it pretty.  
  
"Earth to Michaelangelo, are you even paying attention to me?"  
  
He blinked in startlement at Natalie, who had turned around and was glaring down at him. Then offered her a sheepish grin. "Sorry Kitten, I was daydreaming. No, I don't know who they've got me fighting. You have any ideas?"  
  
Satisfied that she had regained his attention, she shrugged. "No, haven't heard anything either. You sure you're up for it?" She glanced at him slyly out of the corner of her eye. "You seem to be spending more time with Adam, brewing up weird shit, than you do practicing."  
  
"Hey! Watch the language kitten, you're Dad would take strips out of both our hides if he heard you swearing around me." Michaelangelo admonished. "And we're not brewing up weird stuff, we're working on an idea to get rid of these collars."  
  
"You've been doing that for the last five years. What's the problem?"  
  
"We think we have a way, but the chances of surviving it are about one in ten." He sighed  
  
"Ouch. Remind me not to volunteer. And I still think you're out of shape, going back to the original subject." She walked over to the door and opened it, casting a wordless invitation to walk her to the show tent over her shoulder  
  
"Kiddo, now you're the one who's dreaming." With a mock bow, he preceded her out the door, then turned to hand her out of the trailer.  
  
"Given how much you said you used to practice with your brothers..." She trailed off when she saw the look on his face. Mentally she kicked herself. He'd been depressed for days after they'd left New York last month. Ten years later and he was still hoping they would show up. "Mike? Sorry about that, I should have kept my big mouth shut." Her ears flattened back on her skull and her tail hung limply behind her.  
  
"Nah, its OK, doesn't bug me. Not anymore." He lied.  
  
She cast around for another conversation topic. "Are you and Adam putting on another show tonight?" She asked.  
  
"We're hoping to, depends how exhausted we are after the main event. Come by our trailer anyways, even if we're too tired to do much illusion work we can always play cards."  
  
"Sounds good then." They had approached the main tent as they were talking, and from inside the crowd could be heard getting louder.  
  
Samantha stuck her head out from behind the tent, and gestured for Natalie to pick up the pace. "We're on!" She mouthed exaggeratedly.  
  
Natalie squeaked, and without a further word she dropped down to all fours and dashed ahead, disappearing around the corner with a final flick of her gray tail.  
  
The show had been a long one, but not too exhausting. Michaelangelo could have slept through his fight, and he still would have come out unscathed. Derek was a nice enough guy, fun to hang around with but he couldn't fight worth a damn, even if he was big. Michaelangelo had taken the minotaur down in record time tonight. The crowds had all finally cleared out, and he figured it was around ten thirty or eleven. Lots of time for a quick show. He'd been working on this sweet illusion of a dragon storming a castle...  
  
There was a crashing noise to his left that distracted him, and he turned to peer into the shadows. Two trailers over he could see a disturbance. Old skills coming to the fore, he crept forward on silent feet. As he got closer he realized with a blink that most of the circus folk were gathered there, staring at something just out of his view.  
  
"You nearly ruined the god damned show, you little bitch!" The voice was shockingly loud in the quiet, and was followed immediately by the sound of a hand striking flesh. Natalie spun around the edge of the trailer and fell to the ground, one hand brought up to cradle her cheek. Stalking after her was the ringmaster.  
  
What is he doing here? Michaelangelo thought frantically. He rarely bothered to have anything to do with the rest of them, leaving them to take care of themselves between shows. He remembered Natalie had stumbled a little during her tumbling act, but the crowd thought the little skip had been part of the show, and had applauded as loud as ever. Looks like the ringmaster had thought otherwise.  
  
In his left hand he held a bottle of whiskey and he paused to take a long pull from it before aiming another kick at Natalie. "You stupid clutz, I oughta beat you bloody." He looked up with bleary eyes. "The rest of you bugger off, this doesn't concern you!"  
  
Unwillfully compelled by the collars, the crowd backed off, one slow step at a time. Samantha and Gerry were both crying, the loud yowls filling the night air. Samantha was reaching for her daughter even as her feet dragged her backwards. Michaelangelo also stepped back, cold rage building in his stomach and his eyes locked on the scene in front of him.  
  
The ringmaster reached down and grabbed Natalie by the collar, dragging her to her feet. "Well since you ruined my show, I guess its up to you to make it up to me little kitten." He growled.  
  
Samantha let out a sob and the cold rage building in Michaelangelo's gut burst into white hot flame. No. It wouldn't happen, he would not, could not let it. Without a word he turned and ran, trying to ignore Samantha's cries and Natalie's voice begging to be let go.  
  
Michaelangelo tore into his trailer and looked around frantically. Adam wasn't there. Good. The old man would never have let him attempt what he was about to do. He dug through the cupboards, throwing various items into a plastic shopping bag. When he had what he needed he bolted out of the trailer, heading for the open ground by the main tent. The green was empty. He reached into the shopping bag, and took a deep breath to steady himself. If he tried to do this as wrought up as he was, he'd only manage to get himself killed, or worse. His mind shied away from the worse part. Adam had shown him some of the consequences, and he'd had trouble sleeping for nearly a week afterwards.  
  
No. Thinking about the consequences would put him over the edge. He had to do this, and he had to do it now, before that bastard hurt Natalie anymore. The dagger held in his left hand, he drew it swiftly across the palm of his right hand. The pain was fleeting, and a line of crimson welled up only to dribble off the ends of his fingers. He walked slowly in a circle, watching the blood spatter onto the grass. Muttering the words of the spell under his breath, the harsh guttural syllables tore at his throat.  
  
He completed the circle and it flared to life, pulsing with a red glow that matched his elevated heartbeat. He stood on the southern edge of the circle, facing north across the bloodstained ground. The magic tugged at him, pulling his energy, draining the life out of him. He denied it his life and fed it his anger instead. The light glowed brighter and the circle pulsed faster. The grass in the center became hazy and indistinct as a blindingly white glowing fog filled the confines edged by his blood. There was a lurch, a sense of dislocation and the portal he had been building snapped open.  
  
Michaelangelo stared into the void before him, his eyes unreadable. He'd actually done it. Using his own power he'd opened a portal, a doorway. Adam had told him it was possible, but most magicians never tried it. The only thing that could pass through was yourself, and unless you were immensely powerful, you couldn't be certain that the portal went where you wanted it to. Not many were willing to risk showing up somewhere unexpected and completely naked. He prayed it had worked. The location specified was back by where the ringmaster held Natalie. If everything went according to plan, he would step into the portal here, and emerge there. No belt, no wristbands, no collar. If it didn't work, he could come through decapitated, or even disappear into this portal and never emerge anywhere else. He stood there for a long second gathering his courage. Closing his eyes he stepped over the edge and plunged into the abyss. The collar fell to the ground, smearing one of the lines painted in blood.  
  
PAIN! FEAR! ANGER! Michaelangelo screamed as he was assaulted from all sides. The darkness burned so brightly it blinded him and the fires seared his flesh with ice. He spent forever in that instant. Every cut and bruise he had ever experienced felt like it was being revisited on his body in loving detail by some mad torturer. His thoughts spun around one another, winding themselves tighter and tighter like an elastic band stretched beyond the point it could spring back. Images flashed past his eyes, his friends, his captor, the crowds, his brothers. Why? He tried to scream. Where were you when I needed you? I wouldn't be here, this wouldn't be happening if you had come for me. I trusted you!  
  
Snap.  
  
"Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, don't hurt me don't touch me don't hurt me-" Natalie's voice pulled Michaelangelo from the void. He was curled on his side next to the trailer, and the raw fear and revulsion he sensed coming from her would have woken him from the dead.  
  
"Shuddup bitch." Again the sound of a hand striking flesh and muffled sobbing.  
  
Michaelangelo levered himself into a sitting position, then pulled himself to his feet. Hesitantly, he reached for his throat. When his fingers encountered skin his lips peeled back from his teeth in a feral smile. No collar, no control. His eyes narrowed and still grinning widely Michaelangelo stalked out of the shadows.  
  
"Put her down." His voice sounded abused, as if he'd been screaming for days on end. For all he knows it could have been days in the space between worlds.  
  
The ringmaster looked up, annoyance written large across his features. "I thought I told you all to bugger off." He slurred.  
  
"I decided not to." Michaelangelo continued to walk closer, hands down at his sides. He did his best not to notice Natalie. Her shirt was torn open in the front and her left eye swollen nearly shut. A small amount of blood dribbled from her mouth. She pushed weakly against the ringmaster, but thanks to the collar she still wore, couldn't effectively fight him off.  
  
"You dare disobey? I thought we'd finished that argument years ago." He dropped Natalie who simply curled into a ball at his feet, and straightened himself, turning to face the turtle head on. He looked at the grin on Michaelangelo's face. "What's so damned funny?"  
  
"This." The blow seemed to come from nowhere and the ringmaster felt his feet lift off the ground. He landed on his back hard enough to knock the wind out of him.  
  
"But, how?" He gasped, still not understanding. "The collars..."  
  
Michaelangelo lifted him off the ground and pulled his face in close. "Don't fuck with my friends." He growled before landing another shot, this time in his gut. The grin still in place, Michaelangelo calmly, systematically beat him. Every humiliation, every iota of pain, every nuance of the anger and hate self-loathing Michaelangelo felt was revisited on his enemy. Deliberately he avoided a killing blow. It would have been simple to end it, but it came down to the fact that Michaelangelo was enjoying himself too much to make it stop.  
  
It was only when his arms were burning with fatigue that he let go of the sodden blood soaked lump in front of him. Not enough features left to be recognizable as human. Panting slightly behind the smile, Michaelangelo nudged him with his toe and was rewarded by a small groan. "Still breathing? I'm impressed. You're tougher than I thought." He seated himself cross-legged next to the wreck that he used to call 'Master'.  
  
"As entertaining as the evening has been, I have some other things to take care of." He reached out and grabbed the ringmaster by the throat. Carefully he began to squeeze.  
  
"Michaelangelo." He turned towards the voice behind him. Adam knelt beside Natalie, gathering her up against his chest. "Don't."  
  
His expression hardened. "You can't stop me from doing this Adam." He warned.  
  
"I don't want to stop you. I want you to stop yourself."  
  
"How is she?" Michaelangelo changed the subject, nodding towards the girl.  
  
"She'll live. Don't do this to him, Mike. Don't do this to yourself." Adam refused to be distracted.  
  
Michaelangelo stood up hand still locked around the ringmaster's throat, dragging him to his knees. He was making muffled choking noises now, hands clawing ineffectually at the turtle's wrist. "The collars are useless after he dies, right?"  
  
"We'll find another way around the collars."  
  
"Too late." Michaelangelo tensed his arm, and the cracking of the ringmaster's spine could be clearly heard. "Look after everyone, Adam. I have some unfinished business to take care of back home." He dropped the corpse into the dust, and spinning on his heel he walked into the night. There were so many things he wanted to tell his brothers before they died. 


	6. Chapter 6

Leonardo pulled himself upright. It took more effort than the last time. He absently wiped the blood away from his mouth, and ignored the dull ache in his burnt wrists. The scene before him swam in and out of focus in a nauseating way, forcing him to close his eyes before he retched onto the floor. It was disturbingly quiet as he clawed his way back to lucidity. Finally he opened his eyes again, this time staying focused. "Raphael..." his voice faltered, coming out as nothing more than a cracked whisper.  
  
Raphael lay on his side, curled up into a fetal position. He didn't acknowledge Leonardo, even though his eyes were open and his breath was whistling past his teeth in short, panting bursts. A thin stream of spittle ran from his mouth, merging with the tears that leaked down his face as he shook and snorted.  
  
"He was having such a good time in limbo that I decided to leave him there for a while." Michaelangelo offered in a nonchalant voice. "Peace, quiet, only him and his thoughts. I'm sure he's enjoying the introspective thoroughly. You on the other hand," Leonardo felt a hand on the back of his shell, and was jerked unceremoniously to his feet. "You always did spend too much time wandering around inside your own head. I'm sure that there's nothing new for you to discover there."  
  
Michaelangelo was pressed close to Leonardo, his voice hissing directly into his ear. "So biggest brother. Do you understand now? Does that give you even the smallest inkling of why I hate you? You abandoned me. All of you did. So wrapped up in your own little interests that you forgot about me."  
  
Leonardo shook his head but didn't say anything. He wanted to protest that that wasn't true, that they'd never stopped looking, but the truth seared him like a red hot iron. He was right, just as much as Raphael had been the day before. He had given up on him. He turned his head away from Michaelangelo, not daring to meet his eyes. Shame burned inside. He had stopped searching. It wasn't like he had meant to, it was just as time went on that things kept coming up that got in the way. A distraction here, problems that had to be dealt with immediately there. And after each one it took him longer and longer to go back to the search. Then his own life had started to pick up. Donatello and Raphael were both gone, and he had the dojo to keep him occupied. Students that wanted to learn. Decisions had to be made. Other people needed to be cared for. So really, what was the point? He had been so sure deep down that Michaelangelo was dead. Once he was gone, there was no real reason to keep the others together was there? It made it easy to let Raphael go. Let him wander the country on his own futile search, no friction between them. And if Donatello wanted to go to school, who was he to stop him? He knew the risks didn't he? One dead, one already wandering what was one more? Leonardo's thoughts chased each other around his skull, driving home the fact that he'd failed. The biggest test of his life, of his family's life, and he hadn't managed to hold it together. Couldn't save his baby brother. Couldn't keep the other two from leaving the nest. Splinter died and the family died with him.  
  
"Bull."  
  
Both Leonardo and Michaelangelo whipped their heads around to stare at Raphael. "We never forgot about you Mike. I never forgot about you. I've spent the last ten god damned years crisscrossing this country looking for you." His voice cracked and he slowly, painfully levered himself to his feet. "Hell, whole damned Americas looking for you, North and South."  
  
"And you know what Mike? I'm starting to think it was a mistake." Raphael swayed slightly, and reached out to steady himself against the wall. "Cute show you gave us there. You should remember that I never did like tear- jerkers. So you spent your time away in the circus. Got to see the world, did you? Learned a whole bunch of tricks and came back with a god-damned chip on your shoulder."  
  
Leonardo just stared at Raphael. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him this angry and not slip completely into a berserker rage. Michaelangelo seemed at a loss for words, the first time since the whole macabre scene had started. Raphael took another wavering step forward, and Michaelangelo automatically shifted to keep him directly in front of him. Leonardo glanced around, and his eyes widened as he realized what Raphael was doing. Two more steps and Donatello was out of the line of fire.  
  
"Figured you'd send me back to your own little personal hell after I saw the ending? Hate to break this to you Mikey, but unlike you, that's not enough to make me Coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. I found my own way out of your little bubble. I guess that means I'm made of better stuff than you are." He stepped again. "Come on Michaelangelo, aren't you going to say anything? You've been running off at the mouth since we got downstairs. You've been laying this guilt trip on us, and you know what? I'm not playing that game. I don't feel sorry for you and I'm not going to wrap myself up in a mess of guilt and self accusation."  
  
Raphael took his final step. "In fact, not only do I not feel sorry for you, I'm going to kick your ass for what you did to Don!" The last came out as a growl as Raphael lunged for Michaelangelo, sai in hand.  
  
Michaelangelo stood there unmoving until Raphael was nearly on him, sai drawn back for a strike that would at least be crippling, if not lethal. The dim light in the hallway flashed across the blade and Michaelangelo spoke. "Get him."  
  
Raphael flew backwards, as if there was a rope attached to his shell between his shoulder blades. There was a loud crack as he impacted with the wall behind him. Leonardo was sure his shell had gone through the dry wall, and possibly cracked the studs underneath. Raphael hung there silently for a few seconds, held to the wall, and slowly, like an afterimage from staring at a lights to long, a shadow formed up around him, like an ebony snake, holding him in place, his feet dangling inches above the floor.  
  
"I guess I forgot to mention that I brought friends." Michaelangelo said in an off-hand manner. Leonardo started to move forward to help Raphael when Michaelangelo stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Ah-ah..... Stay put Leo, or I tell my friend there to stuff him through the nearest keyhole. You really wouldn't like the mess that was left at the end."  
  
Leonardo froze.  
  
Raphael shook his head, trying to pull himself back together. The impact with the wall was unexpected, and had knocked the wind out of him. He tried moving his arms, then his legs with no luck. He blinked, then bit his tongue to keep from crying out. Hovering less than six inches in front of his face were two sooty red eyes. The glowing orbs disappeared and reappeared, and Raphael realized that whatever it was had just blinked.  
  
Michaelangelo pulled his hand back from Leonardo's arm and sauntered over to Raphael, who had started cursing in a low monotone. As Michaelangelo got closer, Raphael raised his head and stared him in the eye. His cursing was no longer a monotone, and this time it definitely had a target.  
  
"What a thing to say Raphael! Remember, she could have been your mother too!" Michaelangelo reached up and patted him on the cheek insultingly. "Now shut up for a few minutes, I don't want to be interrupted." The shadow shifted, oozing up his body like a viscous slime until it covered his mouth, muffling his curses, but not stifling them completely.  
  
Leonardo's thoughts were a whirl as he tuned out what they were saying. Michaelangelo was talking to Raphael, baiting him from the looks of it. He couldn't bring himself to move when Raphael had attacked Michaelangelo, and his feet still seemed rooted to the floor. He had to fix this some how. He had to save his brothers, all of them. It had been his fault. It had always been his fault, and it was up to him to make everything right again. The problem was, he didn't know how to fix this. Everything seemed to be spiraling out of control, and he couldn't even master his own voice, never mind deal with the problems that faced him.  
  
Michaelangelo was ignoring him at the moment, his full attention fixed on Raphael. Leonardo was jerked out of his self-contemplation by a muffled noise of pain from Raphael. His head jerked up, and he stared. The shadow looked like it was constricting, as if it were trying to squeeze the life out of him. It relaxed for a second, then tightened again. No, it wasn't trying to kill him, yet. Just torture him. Michaelangelo was watching the scene with a small smile playing around his lips. "Time for a little payback Raph. Its not much, but you get to share a little of the pain I felt at your betrayal before you go. Fitting don't you think?"  
  
Something broke within Leonardo "Stop it!" he shouted. Michaelangelo turned towards him, one eye ridge lifted in inquiry. "Now why would I want to do a silly thing like that?"  
  
And in that instant, Leonardo knew what he had to do to fix this. It wasn't the best solution, but it was the only one he could come up with. He knew how to make amends for his mistake. "Let Raph go. It's not his fault. He was always closest to you, and he never stopped looking. I did. I was the one who convinced Don that there wasn't a chance of finding you. So if you're looking to blame someone, blame me."  
  
"Oh, I do blame you, Leo. But I blame them too!" He smiled up at Raphael on the wall and gestured with one hand.  
  
Raphael's cry was muffled by the shadow over his mouth, but the rage and pain in it were clearly audible. His eyes rolled back into his head and his hands spasmed as his back arched, the sais dropping with muted clanks to the floor beneath him.  
  
Leonardo flowed into motion between one breath and the next. Michaelangelo pointed at him and yelled something. A ball of sickly blue light sparked out of his fingertips and leapt across the distance between them, but Leonardo wasn't there anymore. He dodged the attack and unsheathed his katana in one smooth move, and before Michaelangelo could martial another attack he felt the cold kiss of steel on his throat.  
  
"One word, one twitch, one blink, and its over Mike." Leonardo breathed in his ear from behind him. His left arm held Michaelangelo pressed against his chest and the right held the sword under his chin, close enough that a small trickle of crimson moved down his throat and along his collarbone. "Now tell whatever the hell that thing is to put Raphael down. Gently."  
  
Michaelangelo didn't say anything, but the shadow lowered Raphael to the floor and unwrapped itself from him. It swept up and away, the two red eyes watching Leonardo and Michaelangelo intently from the far corner. Raphael coughed a few times and knelt down to retrieve his sais.  
  
"Raphael, get Donatello and take him out of here." Leonardo's tone left no room for argument.  
  
Raphael, as usual, ignored the order. "What about you?"  
  
"I'm going to finish things here. Raph, please." Leonardo's voice softened. He wasn't ordering him this time, he was asking him.  
  
Raphael stared at him so long that for a moment, Leonardo thought that he wasn't going to comply. Then, wordlessly, he moved over to Donatello and gently draped one arm over his shoulder, pulling him carefully upright.  
  
Donatello gave a groan, and winced as the noise he made set the jackhammers in his head to an energetic pounding. "Wha.....?" He managed  
  
"Come on Don, we're going outside for a breath of air. Then I'm coming right back." The last was aimed at Leonardo.  
  
"Gah.....feel like someone dropped a bus on me. I think I was seeing things, I could have sworn Mike pushed me down the stairs....." Donatello's voice faded out as they moved down the hall towards the front door, having completely missed the other two turtles frozen like statues behind him as he talked to Raphael.  
  
"So now you going to kill me Leonardo? They're all neatly out of the way." Michaelangelo's voice sounded detached, as if he were just curious in an indifferent way to the outcome of this situation.  
  
"Not yet." Leonardo maintained his grip on his brother. "I've got....." he paused, looking for the right word. "a deal for you."  
  
"What makes you think I want to deal?"  
  
"Trust me, you'll like this one." Leonardo sighed. "What I want from you is your word that when this is done, you'll leave Donatello, Raphael and the humans alone. You won't hurt them, stalk them, send anything you can conjure after them, none of it. You'll drop quietly out of the picture, and leave them the hell alone."  
  
"April, Casey and the munchkin never had anything to worry about. They weren't at fault for what happened to me."  
  
"Neither were Donatello or Raphael. You give me your word that you'll leave them alone, and I'll give you the one who was responsible." Leonardo paused. "Me."  
  
"What?" For the first time that evening, Michaelangelo sounded unsure.  
  
"You want revenge for what happened to you. Well, it was my fault, so I'll give you you're revenge. If I had gone with you that night, none of this would have happened. If I hadn't stopped looking, Donatello would have kept looking too, and we might have found you. I trust you that if you swear to leave them alone, you will. I think you've got that much honor left." Leonardo prayed he wasn't making a big mistake with this, but it was the only thing he could think of.  
  
"And if I refuse?"  
  
"I take your head off here and now. I can't let you hurt them anymore." Leonardo hoped it wouldn't come to that. He knew that to save Raphael and Donatello he could do it, kill their brother, but he also knew that there was no way he could live with himself afterwards.  
  
Michaelangelo's voice mocked him. "You're willing to kill me in cold blood, without honor?"  
  
"If I have to kill one brother to save two, then so be it." He voiced his thoughts.  
  
The silence stretched between them. Leonardo closed his eyes. It hadn't worked, he was going to have to.....  
  
"I accept."  
  
Leonardo's eyes flew open.  
  
"I swear that once I have my revenge on you, I will in no way seek revenge against Donatello or Raphael."  
  
Leonardo let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.  
  
"Satisfied?"  
  
"Yes." Leonardo lowered the sword from his throat. He let go of Michaelangelo, and drew his other katana. With a kind of stiff formality, he laid the one carefully on the floor before walking forward. He circled Michaelangelo, and stopped in front of him, turning slightly so that they faced each other completely.  
  
"I thought you said that you were going to take care of it, Leo." Raphael's voice jaggedly interrupted the scene.  
  
Michaelangelo reacted faster than either of the other two could have believed. Before Leonardo even noticed him move, the spell had been completed. He lowered his arm, and glanced over at Raphael, who's mouth was still moving, but no sound could be heard. "He has."  
  
Raphael attempted to take a step forward, but bounced off something that was suspended in the middle of the hallway between them. Clear, invisible, and apparently impermeable. They couldn't even hear him, although from the colour he was turning, it was pretty obvious he was shouting at the top of his lungs. He pounded on the barrier to no avail.  
  
"A promise is a promise Leo. He's got nothing more to worry about from me." There was a quiet dignity in the way he spoke.  
  
Leonardo breathed a small sigh of relief, and with a silent apology to Raphael and Donatello, he sank to his knees. He knew they wouldn't understand what he was about to do, he hoped that they would forgive him eventually. Carefully balancing his blade across his palms, he raised his arms above his head, offering his sword, his pride and his honor all in one package to the person who used to be his brother. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Michaelangelo reached out and gripped the hilt of the sword, lifting it up so it stood vertically in front of his face.  
  
From the corner of his eye Leonardo could see Raphael going ballistic on the other side of the barrier. He was screaming, or at least that's what it looked like, as he attacked it full force. It was eerie to see him and be unable to hear him. He briefly remembered wishing for as much when they were younger. Now it just seemed sad and quiet without Raphael's voice raised in anger. Donatello had hobbled back into the house and Leonardo felt a flash of annoyance. Didn't anyone listen to him anymore? Unlike Raphael, he just stood there, watching in disbelief and growing horror as the scene played out in front of him. Leonardo closed his eyes and bowed his head. He'd hoped to spare them this, that they wouldn't have to watch. Now, well, now it was too late.  
  
Leonardo felt the kiss of steel at the back of his neck, and a warm trickle of blood crept ticklishly down past his chin from the nick Michaelangelo had begun in his skin. "Goodbye Leonardo." Michaelangelo sounded as if he were merely stepping out for the evening.  
  
"Unca Leo?"  
  
The scene stopped.  
  
"Unca Leo, Mommy and Daddy won't wake up and I'm thirsty, can I have a glass of water?" Climbing innocently down the stairs was Tammy, rubbing at her eyes with one hand while the other gripped the railing, her brown hair in a tangled halo around her head from her restless sleep.  
  
"What? You shouldn't be up, none of you should be awake!" Michaelangelo was just as surprised as Leonardo was, or even more so.  
  
Tammy got her first good look at the scene before her and she frowned, her brows drawing together in puzzlement. "Unca Leo? Who'sa new turtle man?"  
  
"It's not important honey. Go back upstairs and see if you can wake Mommy or Daddy again." Leonardo told her, motioning for her to go back upstairs. Michaelangelo was muttering to himself, something about changing the coefficient variables to account for chronological variances. To the distracted Leonardo, it sounded almost as if he had switched places with Donatello. A small corner of his mind that wasn't occupied with the current crisis guessed there was a closer relationship between math and magic than he had guessed.  
  
Tammy frowned. "But Unca Leo, he has your sword, and why are you on the floor? Mommy told me it wasn't right to play with sharp things."  
  
"Tammy, I need you to go back upstairs now. Its very important for you to go back upstairs."  
  
"But you just said that it wasn't important!" She took the last few steps to the floor and stared up at Michaelangelo.  
  
"I was right. Nobody's listening to me today." Leonardo muttered.  
  
"Give Unca Leo back his sword!" She demanded.  
  
"I can't do that kid. Why don't you head back to you're mom now?"  
  
"No! I don't hafta listen to strangers, and you're a stranger!"  
  
Leonardo reached out and pulled Tammy into his lap. "Squirt? I know you aren't supposed to listen to strangers, but he's right. You should go upstairs and stay with your mom and dad." He said softly.  
  
"But.....but if I go away, he's going to hurt you." Her lower lip quivered.  
  
  
  
Leonardo started and then swore silently to himself. Tammy was a quick kid, and he continually underestimated how much she understood about what was going on around her. "Tammy, its really importantt that you leave OK? This is something you're Uncle Leo has to do. It's alright."  
  
She pulled away from him and stared at him defiantly. "No."  
  
"Tamara Lynn Jones! I said to go to your mother, and I meant now!" Leonardo commanded. If there was one person in this house he was not going to let get away with disobeying him at this point, it was her.  
  
Tammy stopped dead for a second and her eyes filled with tears. She choked on a sob, and turned, fleeing into the living room. Leonardo shook his head. While it wasn't her bedroom, at least it was away from here. He glanced around. Donatello had joined Raphael in pounding on the barrier, but whatever it was seemed to be holding up with no problems. He looked up at Michaelangelo. "Finish it before she gets back here." He pleaded.  
  
"Right." Michaelangelo shifted his grip on the hilt, and brought the blade up high for a downward stroke. Leonardo maintained eye contact, unblinking, and unafraid.  
  
The sword had barely started its downward arc when there was a high-pitched scream from the living room. Tammy came tearing back into the hall, her baseball bat in hand. With no hesitation she swung as hard as she could at the back of Michaelangelo's legs, the only target she could reach. There was a muted thwack as the wood connected with flesh. Michaelangelo felt his right leg buckle and shifted his weight to try and compensate for it. He flailed his arms to regain his balance. There was a flash of red across the sword, and Tammy let out a second scream, this time in pain.  
  
Michaelangelo stopped where he was. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the trail of blood on the blade, and Tammy fallen into a little ball beside his feet, clutching her arm and screaming. Michelangelo blanched "I.....I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." the sword hit the carpet with a dull clank. Leonardo shouldered past him to kneel at Tammy's side, trying to examine the wound.  
  
"Just a kid, I never meant to hurt her, I didn't want to make her cry....." Michaelangelo was backing up one slow step at a time, staring at the child with a look of sick horror on his face. "My god.....what am I doing? Oh lord, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Please, I'm sorry." He continued to babble, tears beginning to leak down his cheeks. His shell impacted with the wall, and he crumpled into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth, arms hugging his knees.  
  
There was a tearing sound like a sheet of paper being ripped in half, and a howling wind tore through the house. Raphael stumbled forward as the barrier dissipated. "Check the kid and Leo!" He barked at Donatello. Regaining his balance he lunged forwards, hands reaching to scoop up one of the discarded swords with practiced ease.  
  
He came to a stop with reach of Michaelangelo, and flowed easily into a ready stance. Leonardo noted all of this as he talked to Tammy in low urgent tones. He felt Donatello come to a stop beside him, a second later he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Tammy, you have to let me see the cut. I need to see it before I can kiss it and make it better." He gently pried at her fingers where they clutched her arm. There wasn't a lot of blood, but he needed to make sure.  
  
She hiccupped, and slowly took her hand away. As he examined the wound, Leonardo felt a wave of relief. Not very deep and with the grain of the muscle, there were no arteries touched. There was a good chance it would heal without a major scar. "Don, go get me the gauze and some tape. It'll be fine once we get it bandaged." He reassured.  
  
Raphael relaxed as he heard the verdict. Grimly, he returned his attention to Michaelangelo, who still rocked back and forth, curled into a fetal ball and whispering that he was sorry over and over. He felt Donatello leave the room to get medical supplies, and he could feel Leonardo's gaze on his back, but he didn't say anything. Raphael realized that Leonardo was letting him make his own assessment, silently stating that he would back whatever decision was made.  
  
The silence was broken only by Michaelangelo's sobs. Raphael stood over him, sword in hand, expression unreadable. After an eternity, he dropped the sword to one side, and knelt beside his brother, gathering him into his arms. "Shhh, it'll be ok, Mikey. Everything will be ok now." He said softly over and over, drowning out Michaelangelo's frantic apologies, spilling forth like a babbling brook. His best friend was home again and if he was a little broken, well it could be fixed. 


	7. Epilogue

April woke up with a start. For a moment she was disoriented, unsure what was going on. Casey muttered beside her and curled into a tighter ball on top of the covers. A breeze wafted through the window, bringing the dry scent of dirt and scorched fields. She looked around the room. No sign of the boys, and no sign of Tammy either. She grinned a little at that. She still called them boys, even though they were older now than she was when she first met them. By several years when she worked it out.  
  
She leaned back against the pillows and stretched, and like a wave crashing on the beach, the events of the previous night flooded her consciousness. "Ohmygod..." Her feet hit the floor before she had finished the expletive, and she was half way to the door before she heard a burst of laughter from downstairs.  
  
She stopped with her hand on the door handle in confusion. Laughter? Did that meant that everything was OK? She opened the door and stuck her head into the hallway. "...Guys?"  
  
Raphael's voice drifted up from the main floor. "Hey April! You're awake. Come on down, the coffee's made."  
  
"What about that...thing from yesterday? And where's Tammy?"  
  
"Don't worry about it, the problem's been taken care of. Get dressed and we'll tell you about it when you get down here. Tammy's up already and she's had breakfast."  
  
April backed her way down the hall, still eyeing the stairs with her disbelief. She closed the bedroom door and looked over her shoulder. Casey was still asleep and showing no signs of stirring. She vaguely recalled that he had been awake when she had drifted off to sleep, and she wondered how long he had stood watch over them before succumbing himself. They hadn't let him join in the fray, but it was just like him to keep his own private watch over the two of them.  
  
A quick change into clean clothes later, April descended the stairs. She could hear Tammy and Raphael in the living room, playing some sort of game that involved lots of giggling on her part. From the kitchen she could hear the murmur of soft conversation, and concluded that Donatello and Leonardo were in there. She ignored the living room for the moment and headed towards the kitchen to get the promised cup of coffee. Caffiene first. Then she could handle whatever explanations came her way. Some things never did change.  
  
Leonardo was leaving the kitchen as she entered. She noticed he was no longer wearing either his mask or the swords, and held two cups of black coffee in his hands. Wordlessly he handed one to her and continued past, heading towards the noises from the other room.  
  
April sipped the coffee and sighed. Perfect. Black as sin and hot enough to scald. She peeked into the kitchen and saw Donatello seated on a stool he had dragged near the stove, flipper in hand and keeping a close eye on the eggs that were bubbling and spitting away in the frying pan. "Whoa! What happened to you?" April took in the bruises that covered his body and the gleaming white bandage wrapped around his head.  
  
Donatello looked up from the breakfast and offered her a half-hearted grin. "It's not as bad as it looks. To be honest, I don't really understand it myself, I was out cold for all of the important parts. Why don't you go ask Leo? He could probably tell you."  
  
"I'll do that." April turned towards the living room, completely missing the sly smirk that Donatello gave her back.  
  
"Leonardo what..." April's voice trailed off as she entered the living room and took in the scene before her.  
  
Leonardo and Raphael were seated on the couch, talking quietly with one another, glancing every once in a while at the scene that was playing itself out on the floor. Tammy stood in the middle of the living room, trying to crane her neck around to trace the, fairies??! that were circling around her, singing in sweet piping voices that barely descended into the audible range. Leaning up against the far wall a third turtle waved a hand as if directing an orchestra, and the flight of fairies dipped and swayed in time. April's jaw hung open, and her coffee mug slipped unnoticed from numb fingers. "M...michealangelo?" She whispered.  
  
The third turtle looked up, a wide grin grew across his features. "Hiya Ape!"  
  
Before she could come up with a suitable reply, her coffee mug floated back up in front of her face, not a drop spilled from it. The black shadow that supported it stared at her with its sooty red eyes for a second, then one of them closed into an unmistakable wink. Unable to cope and unsure how to try, April did the only thing she could think of. She fainted.  
  
* * *  
  
"I think she's coming around."  
  
"You know, you'd think in the ten years I've been gone you could have cured her of this."  
  
"Heh. I just married her Mike. That was enough of a shock to her system."  
  
"Guys, will you quit it? She's awake!"  
  
April opened her eyes to see Casey, Tammy and four turtles gathered around her. Michaelangelo knelt closest to her head, and he twisted up his lip in a wry apology. "Sorry about that Apr-" his sentence was cut off as she lunged off the couch and caught him in a huge hug. "Whoa! Good thing I've got a shell, or ribs would be nothing but a fond memory here!"  
  
A few minutes later, April had a fresh cup of coffee, and everyone but Michaelangelo were seated in various spots around the living room. "Leo, there's something I have to do...could you explain it to them?" His voice was surprisingly meek, and his eyes kept straying towards the door and the yard outside.  
  
Leonardo caught and held his gaze for a long minute. April didn't know what he read there, but it seemed to satisfy him. His expression softened, and he nodded once. As Michaelangelo slipped out the door, Leonardo began to speak. "Well, you know where it started ten years ago, when Mike went out to pick up a pizza..."  
  
The sun streamed through the trees and dappled across the ground, patterns of light and shadow shifting as leaves were moved by the breeze. Michaelangelo reached the spot he was looking for. He stared up at the huge tree apprehensively for a moment, and with a nearly inaudible sigh he sank to his knees before it. Placing both palms on the cool ground, he leaned forward until his forehead touched as well. After a second he pushed himself upright and sat back on his heels, enjoying the shade of the gnarled oak tree that overlooked the riverbank.  
  
"Forgive me for not coming by earlier Master. I wasn't feeling myself."  
  
~Welcome home, my son.~  
  
  
  
  
  
**AN: There, that's it, finished, done, kaput! Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read my story. And extra big thank you's to everyone who wrote reviews for it! Twenty thousand words and two months later, all I can think is that I can't believe this whole thing started because of one static image remembered from a dream. The rest of this fic was put together so I had a semi-plausible (OK, I know I'm stretching it here) lead up and a conclusion I could live with as an excuse to get the whole thing on paper. LOL, classic case of playing "What if?" Followed by "What then?" Anyways I'm done rambling here. See ya later, and here's hoping that the next time I eat Italian sausage and ice cream before bed I get more story ideas! 


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